


wear out all your prayers

by maharlika



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Cockwarming, Conditioning, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Edging, Hand Feeding, Horn Stimulation, Hurt/Comfort, Jotun Loki, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Examination, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Past Abuse, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Purring, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika
Summary: “What’s his name?” asked the shadow.Something in Loki stirred. He’d never had anyone ask him for his name before. He looked up, wary, and saw that a man had slipped a hand through the bars of his cage. Shakily, Loki crawled over to kiss his fingers.“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” the man murmured.An AU where some Jotnar are bred specifically to be sex slaves, and Thor, Prince of Asgard, has been sending out inquiries.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 364
Kudos: 1070





	1. the pound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [na_shao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_shao/gifts), [Bluebird_Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebird_Rose/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Изнашивай все свои молитвы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25310248) by [Wanda105](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanda105/pseuds/Wanda105)
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授翻】倾其所有为你祈祷 by maharlika](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329057) by [Ragnamance_Translation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragnamance_Translation/pseuds/Ragnamance_Translation)



> this is mostly pure unrepentant horrible nasty filth. please mind the tags and don't read this if they make you uncomfortable! the abuse is mostly in the past but loki can't really consent to anything so it's non-con all the way down. 
> 
> also PLEASE read my endnotes for more fic caveats, ty!!!!

Jotun labor was a cornerstone of Aesir society. Most Jotnar—large and strong—were used for physical labor, hard work in the fields, in the mines, as indentured soldiers in other Aesir colonies. Through the centuries, though, it had become increasingly popular to breed Jotnar for other attributes. Jotun secondary sexual characteristics were appealing in many ways: the heat that came upon the omega breed, coupled with their submissive predisposition, made them perfect for sexual slavery. 

Of course, a Jotun could only be bred by another Jotun, so there was no fear of mixing blood. No mutts, no bastards, no troublesome pregnancies. It was an easy solution for the lusts that come upon Aesir men and women so easily. Indeed, ever since Jotnar sex slaves went to market in the reign of Bor, Aesir society had only improved and grown by leaps and bounds. Almost every household had a number of Jotun slaves. The alphas made good workers, and the omegas, good pets.

Thor Odinson has had a number of omegas in his care, all of them from the best pedigree, carefully trained and eager to please. They were even educated, a rare status for an omega, and could read and write and entertain Thor with music. As Crown Prince of Asgard, Thor could have his pick of any omega in the realm—of any omega in the Nine Realms and beyond. 

So when he decided to drop by a local pound one day, the rumors that flew through the court were shocked and scandalized. What could _Thor Odinson_ want with abandoned or captured omegas? Everyone _knew_ that pounds only had omegas with the worst breeding, those who acted out or were simply too broken to be of any use. It was scandalous.

But not as scandalous as the day Thor Odinson actually brought his new omega _home_. 

—

Days in the pound were marked by the sudden surge of lights overhead. The glaring, painful white lights shone over dank and cramped cages, filled with Jotun omegas. If the lights did not wake the omegas up, a blast of cold water did, sprayed directly into their cages by the handlers. The omegas at the pound were not allowed blankets or clothes or any personal items. They had one bowl attached to their cage, for hard and tasteless nutrient pellets. Water was hosed in twice a day, and they had no choice but to drink it from the spray or lick it from the cage floor. 

Loki had been in the pound for almost a month, abandoned by his previous master. He had spent about a year strapped into a breeding bench, kept in a dark basement and whored out to seedy clients. 

The pound was hardly better. The days were slow and torturous. Three times a week, they were let out for a walk around the cages, dragged along by their leashes whether they wanted to move or not. At night, the guards had their fill of whichever omegas they wanted. Loki was used to spreading his legs and taking it, but not all omegas were. Nights were filled with the sound of crying and wailing. The pound was heavy with the stench of miserable and frightened omegas.

The worst of it was when an omega went into heat and the guards didn’t fuck them. The begging and sobbing went on for days. Loki hadn’t been able to keep track of his heats, but he knew his would come one day. His previous masters had claimed him through his heat, or else sold his heats to the highest bidder, and Loki had never had to spend it alone. The idea terrified him. It was one thing to become so helpless that he begged to be taken—another thing to beg for it and not have his terrible, desperate need fulfilled. 

Every day, people would come and check the omegas, wandering through the cages and reading off the labels on the outside. Sometimes, they stuck their hands through the bars of Loki’s cage and pet him, or made him turn around and present himself for their fingers or cock. No one ever bought him, though, because Loki was defective: he could not talk.

His first master had told him that a slave’s place was to be silent. Loki had been punished terribly for any noise he made, and now nothing would come out of his throat, not a single sound, no matter how much he was ordered to speak or to beg. 

Loki knew that the longer he stayed in the pound, the closer he was to being put to sleep. 

Sometimes, he thought, he would even welcome it.

—

One day, there was a ruckus in the pound. Someone important was coming. Loki was too exhausted to uncurl himself from the corner of his cage. When the shadow of a large man came over him, he barely moved.

“Ah, my Prince, I don’t think you would be interested in this one,” someone said in a weedy voice. “He’s defective. Nonverbal. We have much better wares for you to—”

“What’s his name?” asked the shadow.

Something in Loki stirred. He’d never had anyone ask him for his _name_ before. He looked up, wary, and saw that a man had slipped a hand through the bars of his cage. Shakily, Loki crawled over to kiss his fingers. 

“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” the man murmured.

The hand drifted down, stroking Loki’s skin above his cold metal collar, then lower to tug at the piercings on his nipples. Loki gasped, just a breath of air, torn between leaning into the touch and pulling away. He could feel himself growing wet just from the simple ministrations, slick dripping slowly down his thighs.

When he was ordered to turn around, Loki scrambled to obey, raising his ass for inspection. Two fingers slipped into him, large and rough, and Loki opened around them easily. His fingers scratched at the floor. He spread his legs and arched his back, hips swaying into the touch.

“He’s sensitive,” the man said, sounding amused.

Loki bit his lip, dropping his head into his arms and fucking himself into the fingers like he was meant to. It was starting to feel good, and his cock, small and neglected, twitched to life between his legs.

Then the hand pulled away. Loki would have whimpered if he could, but instead he just held the position until the shadow walked away. 

_Wait_ , he wanted to say, _wait, please, I can be good. I can be good_. But he could not speak.

When the footsteps disappeared into the distance, Loki curled into himself and closed his eyes.

Days passed, slow and terrible. Loki forgot about the shadow. Something else occupied him. He could feel the beginnings of his heat.

The terror of it, along with the near-starvation and constant abuse, wore him down. He slipped through consciousness and unconsciousness. Everything happened in flashes: the bright glare of artificial lights in the mornings, the cold blast of water to clean him, the interminable days. He started to crave for the nights when the guards take their turns in his ass, his mouth. It was better than the horrible _nothingness_ otherwise.

He could barely open his eyes one day when someone reached into his cage and grabbed him by the collar, tugging him until his face was pressed up against the bars. He hung from their grasp, limp, no strength left in him.

“Shit, is that thing still alive?”

“Better be. This one’s going to the Odinson.”

The cage door opened. Loki was tugged onto his feet but his legs gave out and he fell. He was kicked in the side, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Someone grabbed him by the hair.

“If you’re not going to walk, you’re going to crawl,” someone said.

They dragged him through the halls into a room he’d never been in before. They shoved pellets into his mouth, made him chew and swallow, then dumped him into a scalding tub of water and scrubbed him clean.

His heat crept up on him, slowly licking through his limbs, until he was dripping steadily just from being manhandled. The handlers cursed and made noises of dismay when they saw he was in heat, but they bent him over and stuffed a plug in his ass to keep him from making a mess. Loki wished they would milk him, but they only tied a cock ring around him. Someone slapped his ass and he jolted.

“Look alive, slave.”

Then they clipped a leash onto his collar and Loki was being dragged out again, past the rows and rows of Jotun omegas in cages, beaten down and broken, sobbing and whining. And then—sunlight. 

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. He was so dizzy he could barely stand.

He was lucid enough to register a covered skiff by the street. It was the sort of thing Loki had never been allowed inside. The door opened, and he was pushed in.

He stumbled, sprawling on his hands and knees on a carpet that was the softest thing he’d ever touched.

He stayed there, weak and mindless with heat, his ass twitching and clenching around the plug.

“What’s wrong with him?” someone murmured. The voice was familiar, but Loki couldn’t place it. He couldn’t think. His cock twitched, leaking incessantly onto the carpet. He’d be made to clean it up with his tongue later, he thought. 

“He seems to be in heat, sire,” someone else said. The skiff started moving.

“Oh,” said the man. “Do they not provide omegas with suppressants in those facilities?”

“I hardly think they care to, sire,” replied the other person. 

“Put it on the list,” the man said, and then he was reaching out and tugging Loki into his lap. 

Loki’s eyes rolled upwards. His skin was sweat-slick and burning with every touch. His mouth fell open in ragged pants. He needed—he needed—

“Shh, be good now,” the man said. He twisted the plug out of Loki’s ass, and Loki wanted to scream. He wanted to beg. He opened his mouth and nothing came out but a soundless sob.

And then a cock was nudging into his ass, steady and unforgiving.

It was large. Seemingly bigger than anything Loki had ever taken, but it didn’t hurt. There was nothing but relief when the cock was all the way inside him, Loki twitching and rolling his hips to take it all. 

Then he slumped, drooling and shaking, eyes wide but unseeing. The Aesir were murmuring to each other again, but Loki could comprehend none of it. Nothing else mattered except the cock inside him and his new master’s hands on his ass, his hips.

“I’m taking you home,” his master murmured.

Loki closed his eyes, clenched around his master’s cock and shuddered all over. His cock twitched in its binding. He thought of nothing else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just want to make it super clear that this fic is 10000% not an accurate depiction of trauma and rape recovery and is more like "How To Get Away With Genocide and Slavery: The Fanfiction." the power imbalance will be addressed only because i eventually found it to be unsatisfying but this is fiction and everything takes place within the bounds of a fictional world!!!! do not come looking for Good Representation here, you will not find it!!
> 
> catch me on twitter @sendaraven or @nastycorvid for nsfw stuff! also i SWEAR i'll finish my other a/b/o wip, i just needed to get this out of my system lkajdlksa


	2. coming home

Loki did not remember much after that. He was consumed by his heat, by his new master. He remembered his face pressed into his master’s neck as he carried Loki—carried him!—through grand, golden hallways, the quiet murmur of his master’s voice as he bounced Loki on his cock with each step. 

Then a bed, impossibly soft, and Loki’s legs being pushed apart, his knees at either side of his head, and his master’s cock fucking him slow and steady. His breath left his lungs in a shivery exhale. He’d never been fucked so _completely_. His master’s cock felt like it was coring him open, like Loki would never be the same after. 

The ring was kept on his cock, though Loki didn’t really mind. It was enough to be used. 

His master was not with him for his entire heat, arriving at night and leaving in the mornings. But Loki was never left empty. His master filled him with toys and beads, things that sparked lightning down his spine. He was not allowed to touch himself—his master bound his arms behind his back to make that clear—but he was met with nothing but amusement when his master found him rutting his bound cock against the sheets. 

His mouth was filled too, with a gag the shape of a cock, large enough to make his jaw ache and long enough to hit the back of his throat if he swallowed. Loki almost wept to be allowed to suckle on it, shuddering all over at the feeling of being filled in both holes, utterly used. 

His favorite moments were when his master returned to his chambers at night and slid the toys out of him, leaving Loki’s ass twitching, achingly empty. Then he would fill Loki himself and they would sleep like that, Loki warming his master’s cock and suckling on his gag. He cried himself to sleep. He was _happy_ , ecstatic. It was heaven. 

The day Loki’s heat broke, his master carried him again, out of the bedroom and into a chamber with a large pool of water. They sank into the water and Loki almost wept again at how good it felt. When his master tucked his cock into Loki’s hole, he _did_ cry, riding his master to show his gratitude. 

Then he was washed, gently and thoroughly. His master even lathered up his hair, and carefully combed the tangles out with his fingers. Loki almost wept again at the ministrations. He was dried with a soft, fluffy cloth and then his master bent him over a bench by the side of the pool and slid a plug into him. Afterwards, he took Loki back in his arms and carried him to the bed again. 

The sheets had been cleaned. Loki stroked a hand, wonderingly, eyes going wide at the softness. It felt so good against his naked skin. His master, still naked as well, went to the door and came back with a tray of food that made Loki’s mouth water. 

He curled up into himself, his stomach suddenly cramping in hunger, and wished even for the hard pellets they fed him at the pound, for the scraps covered in come that his previous master had forced him to eat. 

His master’s hand settled on his head, and Loki couldn’t help but press up into it. Then something was pressed to his mouth, wet and cool, and Loki opened his lips and took it. Flavor burst on his tongue, golden, sweet and sour at the same time. He swallowed and mindlessly opened his mouth for more.

His master chuckled softly, shuffling closer until Loki could place his head on his master’s lap. His thigh was strong and hard. His master fed him from his hand, soft things, crunchy things, sweet things and salty things and sour things. Loki did not know what any of them were. He didn’t care. He opened his mouth and chewed and swallowed and kissed his master’s fingers in gratitude. 

When he was so full he thought he would burst, he turned his head into his master’s crotch and began to nuzzle at his cock. 

“Hungry for something else, pet?” his master asked, stroking a hand through his hair. In reply, Loki stuck out his tongue and licked at the head of his master’s cock, then suckled it into his mouth and shivered from the pleasure of it.

“Good boy,” his master murmured, and Loki felt as if he was going to dissolve from sheer happiness. His master didn’t push him, or thrust into his throat. Instead, he laid back into his pillows and took a sort of square object from the side of the bed, and began to touch its surface. He paid Loki no attention at all, except for the occasional stroke of his thumb against Loki’s cheek.

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He had been fed, and now his master was allowing Loki to pleasure him, to warm his cock. Loki had never wanted for anything more. 

—

He drifted in and out of sleep, his master’s cock warm and thick in his mouth, and when he opened his eyes properly, the sun was low in the sky. The _sun_. Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had seen it, but there it was, in all its glory, setting over the mountains. His master’s chambers opened up to an expansive balcony. Loki wondered if he would ever be allowed to go out on there, and then flinched and told himself to stop being greedy. 

“Awake, pet?” his master asked, and Loki gave his cock a slow suckle in reply. His master laughed, reaching down to pet his hair. 

“You’re very good, aren’t you?” his master asked, stroking his ear, his cheek. Loki flushed warm at the praise. 

There was a knock on the door. His master sighed, gently guiding Loki off his cock. Loki swallowed and licked his lips, carefully stretching his jaw. 

The knocking grew more insistent. 

His master left the bed and went to the door, and Loki rolled over to see who had come to visit.

His nose twitched as he smelled the visitor before he saw him, but he had to glance up to make sure—and yes. It was a Jotun. An _omega_. This one smelled different, though. Clean. Fresh. His skin was a deep, healthy blue. He wore _clothes_ , a cloth around his hips, and sandals on his feet. Most astonishing of all were his _horns_ , beautiful and intact, curving from his forehead and over his hair. They were small, not as big as an alpha’s could be, but they were whole. 

Loki felt a pang. Omegas were sometimes given medicines to stunt the growth of their horns into small nubs. His own horns had been allowed to grow, and thenwere broken, chiseled off in what had been the most terrible pain he’d ever felt. What was left were broken stumps. The damage was a lasting one: sometimes Loki got headaches so terrible they left him incapacitated for hours, even days. 

“ _Thorrr_ ,” the omega was saying, a hand cocked on his hip. “We miss you. We heard—is that _him_?”

The disdain in his voice was evident. Loki had no sense to be embarrassed—he was used to it. 

He only blinked, surprised at being acknowledged at all. 

“‘Boda,” his master said, sounding exasperated. Loki almost flinched at the less-than-pleased tone, but “Boda” only smiled, reaching out to stroke a hand along his master’s arm. 

“We’ve missed you,” he said again. “I’ve been learning a new dance for you, and the others and I have been talking about seeing Nal’s new play, wouldn’t that make a fun night? We’ve barely seen you in—”

“I’ve been busy,” his master said, cutting the Jotun off. 

Dread curled in Loki’s belly. The other slave had to stop talking. He was going to make his master angry. He sat up on the bed and started to inch towards the edge of it.

“Oh,” said the other Jotun, flat, “so he _can_ move.”

“What would I do with an immobile slave?” his master asked. 

“That’s what I told Jarnsaxa!” Boda said. 

Loki’s feet touched the floor. He swayed, but stayed standing. 

His master turned to him with a confused expression. 

Loki took a few trembling steps forward, but his knees went weak and he fell to the floor. He bit his lip, forcing himself to crawl.

“What on _earth_ ,” Boda muttered.

“Loki,” his master said, the first time he had spoken Loki’s name. 

Loki inched closer, close enough to put a hand on his master’s foot. He lowered his head and kissed it, then reached up and kissed his master’s slack hand. He hoped his master would understand—would see it for the apology it was. Then maybe he wouldn’t hurt Boda. Maybe he would hurt Loki instead, but that would be better. That’s what Loki was for.

“You should be in bed, darling,” his master murmured. To Loki’s surprise, his master picked him up off the floor, tucking him in his arms and against his chest.

“ _Thor_ ,” Boda whined. 

“Later,” his master said, and the clear dismissal in his voice made Loki quail. “Go ask Fandral to entertain you.”

The door closed.

Loki trembled, unable to help himself. Boda was gone, so at least _he_ was safe. But his master was angry now, and there was no one but Loki to take it out against. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking, curling further into himself.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” his master asked. 

Loki shook his head. His mouth opened, but nothing came out but a terrified wheeze. 

“You’re shaking all over,” his master muttered. “Hush, now, did Boda scare you?”

Loki shook his head again.

“Did I—oh, pet,” his master said. “Shh, it’s all right. Did you think I was angry? Was that what you were trying to do? Make me feel better?”

Tremulously, Loki nodded.

His master hummed. He didn’t sound angry anymore.

“You really are the sweetest thing,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Loki’s hair.

Loki gasped—he couldn’t help himself. His insides turned molten, warm and gooey. 

His master set him on the bed, drawing Loki into his lap. Loki blinked slowly up at him, and his master leaned down and kissed his forehead again. 

Loki put his hands on his master’s chest, curled them into useless fists, and snuggled close. His master kissed his nose, his cheek. Loki felt as if he would die from happiness. 

“You can meet them all when you’re ready,” his master was saying. “Angrboda and Jarnsaxa and the rest of the palace omegas. They’re Jotun, like you, so you might like that. They’re usually quite nice—or, well, they’re nice to me, but maybe it’s because I’m the Prince, and that’s what they’ve been trained to do…”

Loki’s eyes drifted shut. He was tired, and his master was warm. 

Soon, without realizing it, he had fallen asleep. 


	3. routine

Loki was not allowed to leave his master’s chambers but he didn’t mind at all. His master’s living quarters were bigger than any room Loki had ever been allowed to stay in. His bed alone was almost ten times the size of Loki’s cage, and it had soft, silky sheets, fluffy pillows, and a beautiful view of the sky outside. Loki spent hours everyday just staring at all that seemingly-endless blue. Sometimes, birds wheeled in and out of view, and Loki’s heart would rise into his throat at the sight. He had never known what it was to see something and call it _beautiful_.

Every morning, he was woken up by his master sliding the plug out of his ass. Sometimes his master would tease him, fucking him with the toy as he driftedup from sleep, hazy and still confused by his new surroundings. He would play with Loki until he was shaking, cock hard and leaking into the sheets, balls drawn tight, body aching with need. And then his master would roll him over to his front, and Loki would reach behind him and present himself, panting eagerly for his master’s cock. It was always so wonderful, the inexorable slide of cock into his hole. His master was hot and thick, filling him deeply. Sometimes, he would even reach around to stroke Loki’s cock, which had been bound with a new set of rings, golden and warm to the touch. Loki was accustomed to having his cock bound—he could not even recall the last time he had been allowed to climax. It didn’t matter. It pleased his master to have him eager and desperate, and only his master’s pleasure mattered. 

On some mornings, his master would have Loki on his lap to warm his cock as he read the day’s missives. His master always had letters and documents waiting for him, sent in by his servants. He must have been a very important man. Those slow mornings were Loki’s favorite, because his master also fed him by hand. Many different things, all of them delicious. Loki caught some of their names—apples, pears, oranges, flaky pieces of bread with a sweet, sticky layer called jam. 

After the food came one single white pill. 

“This is a heat suppressant,” his master explained. Loki looked at him blankly. He had no idea what that meant. “Have you ever had one?”

Loki shook his head, and his master took the pill and put it on his palm. It was small, and weighed next to nothing.

“It’s so your heat doesn’t come this month. You only have to take it for a few days after every heat.”

Loki’s brow furrowed, and he peered at the strange object. 

“You swallow it whole,” his master explained. 

Loki fought to control his expression. He knew he had to take it. His master wanted him to. Loki had to be obedient. He had to be good. But there was the slightest thread of hesitation that slipped through his mind. He had always had his heats. They were often unpleasant, but they were…routine. His heat was a part of him. 

“You don’t want to take it?” his master asked, and Loki flinched, his heart suddenly in his throat. His hand spasmed and the pill fell to the bed and Loki couldn’t breathe. 

“Hey, it’s all right,” his master murmured, dragging Loki’s suddenly-nerveless body into his lap. Loki curled up against his chest and shook his head, trying to say _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, master_.

“I know it must be frightening,” his master murmured. “It’s been a lot of changes at all once, hasn’t it? 

Loki rasped for breath, nodding weakly. 

“I know you’re scared, but the healer advised me that your heats need to be suppressed. You’re much more sensitive than most omegas, and your heat is much more intense. It goes on for longer. It’s not your fault. It’s how you were bred. Your previous masters must have sold your heat off, but you don’t need a heat to be eager for me, hm?”

Loki nodded desperately. He wanted his master’s touch more than anything. 

“Good boy,” his master murmured. “You’ve been so good for me.” He tucked Loki against him as his hand rifled through the sheets, looking for the pill.

When his master held it to his lips, Loki opened his mouth and swallowed it. It felt like nothing at all. Just the barest of pressures going down his throat. He didn’t feel any different. And afterwards, his master reached between his legs and touched his hole, where he was already wet and slick, just from being held.

Loki shivered, mouth falling open in a sigh, and his master murmured soft, gentle things as he sat Loki down on his cock.

The pill became mundane, even expected. After a few days, he had taken his full dose, and the pill was forgotten altogether.

The slow mornings, however, continued: the delicious food, his master allowing him to warm his cock. 

It was bliss. 

Some mornings, though, his master was up early, and Loki would not even have the chance to pleasure him before he went. He would nuzzle into his master’s crotch, pouting, and his master would laugh and gently push him away. And then the door would close behind him and Loki would be alone. 

On those days, Loki carefully crept out of bed. His toes would curl into the soft carpet of his master’s room. He would walk, slow and wary, and sometimes he would stumble. Then he would curl up on the floor and let himself rest, and no one would come in to spray him down with cold water or drag him through the halls.

When the sun went down, Loki would walk to the door and kneel before it, pressing his chest to the ground and raising his ass, crossing his arms behind his back. Sometimes, he had to wait a while, until his muscles were aching, but often his master arrived before Loki grew tired.

He always gave a small amused laugh to see the way his slave welcomed him, and it made Loki flush in pleasure to bring his master joy. Then, he would crawl on his hands and knees and kneel beside his master as he sat and ate his evening meal at the table. He fed Loki by hand again, his second meal of the day, scraps from his own plate. Sometimes, he would put his plate on the floor and Loki would lower his head and lick up what was left, so grateful for his master’s kindness.

At night, they would bathe in the room with the large pool. His master liked to tease Loki then as well, would have Loki sit with his back to his master’s chest, split open by his cock as he pumped Loki’s small cock in his fist. Loki could not come, but he could pant and shudder and clench around his master until his master came with a sigh, pumping him full. 

Then he was washed, and dried, and his master would choose a plug to put inside him for the night.

Some nights, his master would stay up late, writing letters or reading long, tedious-looking documents in bed. He liked Loki’s company for nights like those, and would allow Loki to suckle on the cock-gag he had loved during his heat, would press something on the toy inside his ass that made it pulse and vibrate, and either spread his legs apart with a bar or bind them tight together. 

And Loki would lay there, immobile by his master’s side, bound and gagged and crying tears of desperate joy, shuddering every time his master absently tugged on a nipple or stroked a finger along his cock, until he passed out. 

—

On one of the days following his heat, his master had come back with a man that Loki did not know. He was not one of his master’s servants, and not an omega like him. Boda had not returned. 

Loki had been frightened, but his master had gestured for him to come closer, and he had obeyed. The man did not touch him much, buthis fingers inspected the metal collar around his neck. Then he and Loki’s master exchanged a few words, and the man left, and his master had seen how Loki was shaking and called him a good boy and let Loki suck his cock for a long while, to soothe him. 

His master was so, _so_ kind. 

Later that day, the man returned with a box for his master, and his master opened it to reveal a strip of red material. He called Loki to his lap and Loki went, curious and a little bit nervous. His master’s hand went to the clasp of the collar behind his neck, and, with a quiet _click_ , undid the mechanism holding it closed. His master replaced the metal collar with something supple and soft, moulding easily around Loki’s neck. 

A new collar. Red, like the cape his master wore. 

Loki wept as he rode his master’s cock in gratitude. 

—

One afternoon, while Loki’s master was out, there was a knock on the door.

Loki was staring out at the sky, watching at the clouds slowly drift past for hours, and was startled badly by the sound.

The knocking came again. Loki flinched and scrambled backwards on the bed until his back hit the headboard and he could go no further.

The door opened. 

Loki’s nose twitched at the smell, even as he curled in on himself and didn’t look up. Another omega, but not Boda. 

“Huh,” said the visitor. “I can’t believe Boda was right.”

Loki looked up with a flinch, heart beating frantically as the omega _stepped inside_ his master’s room. His hands curled up in the sheets underneath him.

They stared at each other for a moment, Loki in shock and panic, and the other omega in visible disgust.

“You really are pathetic,” the visitor continued. “Scrawny. Ugly. Gods, your horns are disgusting. What _does_ Thor see in you?”

Loki shook his head, desperately trying to curl up into a smaller ball. His chest was tight, and he couldn’t seem to breathe deeply enough. He could hear himself wheezing, gasping for air.

“You do know you’re just a passing fancy for him, right? He’ll have his fun with you because you’re a docile, broken little toy, and then he’ll throw you right back into the pit you came from.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hot tears stream down his cheeks. 

“You can’t even _talk_." With a disgusted sound, the visitor turned on his heel. Loki didn’t hear the door close behind him, not through the rush of blood in his ears.

Loki wrapped his arms around himself, fighting to breathe. He had had much worse things said to him, done to him. The words of the omega should not have hurt him so, but his master had been so kind and Loki had made the terrible mistake of forgetting that he did not deserve it. He had forgotten that he was not here to be coddled, to be cared for, but to be used. 

And Loki _knew_. He knew his master would never _keep_ him. Loki was a toy for fucking, a warm, obedient set of holes, a body bought and sold for someone else’s pleasure. That his master had even kept him this long was a miracle. 

Loki knew he would be back in the pound again someday. Maybe someday soon. And he knew he would die, then, because death was better than living through hell again.

He only wanted to have enough memories of the sky to comfort him through the last of his days in that cold, grey prison. 

—

That night, his master returned to find him curled up in the corner of the bed instead of waiting to welcome him by the door. Loki knew he had to move, had to do—something. Anything. Had to please his master, show that he was an eager pet, but he was frozen in place. There was a blinding pain in his head, and it would not pass. He had had these episodes every so often, ever since his horns had been broken. He was usually fucked through them, and he considered himself lucky when the pain was enough to make him pass out. 

Through the throbbing agony, the words of the omega earlier rattled in his mind: _passing fancy_ , _broken little toy_ , _into the pit_ —

“Loki?” his master said, coming over to the side of the bed where he lay motionless.

Loki couldn’t even raise his head. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing that if his master chose to throw him away now, he would deserve it. Everything ached. His head felt like it had been run through with knives. 

A hand passed over his hair, slow and gentle. Loki flinched, and pain erupted behind his eyelids. 

“It’s this, isn’t it, darling?” his master murmured. A thumb rubbed up against the side of his broken horn and Loki gasped, tears leaking out of his eyes. He was all but senseless from the pain, limbs limp and weak, body convulsing, but that gentle touch brought a wisp of relief he was desperate for. 

His master went away, then came back, and there was something cool being pressed to Loki’s mouth. 

“Hush, there we go, drink it all, sweetling,” his master murmured. Loki was too mindless to do anything but obey. Whatever his master was feeding him was bitter, and it burned as it slid down his throat. His master kept rubbing the side of his horn, gentle, slow circles with his thumb as he tilted the cool, bitter liquid down Loki’s throat. 

Loki swallowed it all down. His master kept petting him, stroking his horns and his hair and murmuring gently, until the awful throbbing in Loki’s head passed and he found he could move again. 

When he raised his head, his master bent down and kissed the jagged edge of his broken horn. The relief from the medicine—for that must have been what his master had fed him—and from the gentle touch was overwhelming. 

“There we go,” his master murmured, as Loki sat up and blindly pressed his face against his master’s body. “Welcome back, pet.”

But he gently pushed Loki away when he went to nuzzle at his master’s cock. Loki blinked in confusion, and his master laughed. 

“Not now,” his master said. “You should rest.”

Loki nodded weakly, feeling shivery and too cold. 

His master seemed to ponder for a moment, then he unclasped his red cape and draped it over Loki’s body. Before Loki could blink, his master hauled him up in his arms.

And then they were—they were stepping out into the _balcony_ , and Loki’s mouth fell open. The sky was even larger from out here, a black expanse filled with glittering lights. Loki craned his neck upwards to try and take it all in. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

“A little fresh air will do you some good,” his master said. He took a seat on one of the tables set outside and rearranged Loki in his arms. Loki’s hands curled into the cape. It was so soft, and it smelled like his master.

“Good?” his master asked, when they were settled.

Loki nodded his head so fast it made him dizzy.

His master laughed again, then kissed the side of his horn, and Loki melted. 

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” his master murmured, and Loki filed the word away.

_So these are stars_ , he thought. He had wondered what they were. They were even lovelier than he’d ever imagined—bright and gleaming against the darkness.

He felt contentment settle over him like his master’s red cloak, and for the first time in his life, felt no pain at all. 


	4. disobedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter comes with some absolutely lovely art from hardwareupgrade on twitter: [please gaze upon it](https://twitter.com/hardwareupgrade/status/1269959205320040448?s=20)!! 😍😍😍

From then on, Loki was allowed to step out into the balcony. And after his master had found him sprawled on the hard floor, staring up at the clouds, he’d even had some pillows and blankets brought in, and soon Loki had a nest outside where he could bask in the sun and watch the clouds, or stare out at the stars at night when his master permitted. 

“I spoil you, don’t I?” his master said, as Loki flopped into his nest and peeked out from under a pile of blankets.

Then he’d fucked Loki up against the railing of the balcony, overlooking the sprawling golden city and the mountains and seas in the far distance.

“Absolutely spoiled,” his master panted, as he ground his cock into Loki’s ass until his legs gave out. And then his master had picked him up, still fucking him, and carried him back into the room, where they spent the rest of the day in bed.

—

Loki was used to being taken on his hands and knees, and indeed his master often took him in that position. But he also enjoyed having Loki on his lap. And he enjoyed doing things to Loki that no one else ever had—sometimes he would drape Loki over his own body, with Loki’s head at his groin, and he would lick and fuck Loki’s hole with his tongue while Loki drooled and sobbed mindlessly around his cock. Sometimes he even licked Loki’s _cock_ , and it was small enough to fit in his master’s entire mouth while his fingers played with Loki’s rim. It always made Loki gush more than anything, that incredible wet heat surrounding his desperate cock.

If Loki had to choose—and it was such a difficult choice; he loved being fucked by his master in every way—then his favorite position was when he was on his back and his master covered his entire body with his, hooking Loki’s legs over his broad, muscular shoulders and pinning his wrists above his head with one hand. 

His master’s taut stomach would provide friction for Loki’s bound, sputtering cock, and Loki could feel there was no escape, no way to relieve himself. He could feel his hole open up to his master’s cock, and didn’t matter at all if he wanted it or not (though he did, he always did)—he would take it because his master wanted to use him. 

It reminded Loki of his place, which always filled him relief. His master’s kindness was so strange and foreign, and entirely undeserved. Loki was frightened he would get used to it, and forget that he could be thrown away at any moment. 

He did not want to forget. 

—

Lately, his master had been returning to his rooms covered in sweat and dirt, and it made Loki’s mouth water. His master always fucked him hard and fast on those days, taking Loki as soon as he entered the room and found his slave on his knees, presenting his ass. Loki found himself covered in bruises and scratches—and once, to his delight, a _bite mark_ —and he treasured each of them dearly. 

Sometimes he thought of the words of the omega who had come to mock him, but it didn’t seem like his master was losing interest in him. On the contrary, he spent more and more time with Loki as the days grew longer and summer began to wax over Asgard.

Loki was not allowed clothes, so the summer heat was bearable, but his master often went out in full dress and armor, and he had taken to teaching Loki how to undress him. Loki was learning, but he was clumsy with the clasps and ties, and sometimes his hands shook. His master was so patient, though, and Loki would feel himself grow wet just from the act of serving his master so. 

After his master was undressed and standing in front of Loki in all his golden, sweat-slick glory, Loki would collapse to his knees and rub his cheek against his master’s cock, pleading with his eyes and with his body. If his master was feeling generous, he would guide his cock into Loki’s mouth, and Loki would inch forward little by little, until his nose touched his master’s groin and his throat was full of cock. His master’s scent and heft would make him so wet he would drip steadily, leaving little puddles from his ass and cock both. 

And sometimes, when his master was in a particularly good mood, he would nudge his foot up against Loki’s cock and rub him, light and teasing, until his eyes rolled back into his head. 

It was during one such occasion that Loki heard a sound he had never heard before. 

His master was sitting at his table with a goblet of ice wine, naked with only Loki’s mouth around his cock to cover him. It was a pleasantly warm day, and his master had spent the entire day in his rooms, and Loki was filled with light, simple happiness.

His master’s foot nudged up against the underside of his cock, and Loki obediently began to rut against it. He could feel his master’s spend dripping on his tongue and he suckled leisurely, swallowing it down. The plug in his ass was satisfyingly large and speckled with ridges that rubbed against his sensitive walls in a way that made him dizzy with pleasure, and his master had weighed down his piercings with two beautiful rubies that swayed and pulled at his nipples every time he moved. 

Lost in a haze, Loki didn’t register the noise, a sort of rumbling hum, until his master tugged at his hair. Loki blinked up at him, mouth full and drooling. 

“Is that you, pet?” 

Loki blinked again, slow. His master dragged his toes along the mess of Loki’s sopping wet cock, and the noise returned. That same gentle rumble. 

Loki realized it was coming from _him_.

His eyes flew wide open, and his gag reflex triggered. He choked and sputtered, pulling away as he heaved for breath. He felt as if his entire body had been doused in ice water, and he scrambled backwards as his master stood up. 

_No!!_ his mind screamed. _No, please! I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet, I’ll be obedient. I won’t make a noise, slaves don’t make noises, I will be quiet, please—_

He scrambled away on his hands and knees, mindless with terror, and he didn’t know what to do—where to go—only that he had to get away from the pain, the punishment—

His master’s arms caught him, and Loki opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out but a horrified wheezing noise. 

“Hey, hey, it’s all right, shh.”

Loki choked on his own breath, on his own spit, sobbing and crying in earnest now. He had done everything wrong. Had pulled away from his master without permission, had struggled when he was caught, had made a _noise_ —

“ _Loki_ ,” his master said, his voice steel. “ _Stay_.”

Loki froze, going still but for his hitching, gasping breaths, the too-quick rise and fall of his chest.

“Shhh, shh, it’s all right, I’ve got you, pet,” his master murmured, taking Loki into his arms. Blindly, Loki turned in the embrace and buried his face in his master’s neck, shaking all over.

“It’s all right, sweetling, you’re all right,” his master continued, and then he was drawing Loki up and against him, cradling him. He walked over to the bed and sat there, holding Loki’s quaking form close.

“You were doing so well,” his master said, soft and gentle. “Can you try to tell me what happened?”

Loki shook violently, but he managed to lift a hand to his throat and make a circle around it with his fingers. Then he lifted the hand to his mouth and covered it, looking up at his master with terrified, tear-filled eyes.

“You—the noise? You were scared of the noise you were making?”

Loki covered his mouth with his hand again, pressing it tight against against his lips. 

“Have you never purred before?” his master asked. 

Jerkily, Loki shook his head. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” his master said, and he smiled, gently. “It’s good to hear it, to be honest. I was beginning to think your vocal chords were ruined completely.”

Loki frowned, confused. Did his master not care that he had been disobedient?

“I like my slaves to make noises, personally,” his master continued. “I know you can’t—maybe not yet—but the purring pleases me.”

It _pleased_ him. Relief washed over Loki and he went limp, going slack in his master’s embrace. Pleased, his master was pleased. Loki wasn’t going to be punished, wasn’t going to be whipped or left on a breeding bench or returned to the pound. He inched himself closer to nose at his master’s cheek, giving his master a look of repentance.

His master smiled, and kissed his forehead. 

“Omegas purr when they feel safe and happy,” his master continued, explaining to Loki the workings of his own body. 

_Safe and happy_ , Loki thought. That certainly described how he felt with his master.

He leaned in slowly and nuzzled his master’s jaw, his previous panic melting away completely.

“There you are, my sweet little pet,” his master said, smiling. “I still have some work to do. Would you like to join me, or rest in bed?”

Loki wrapped his arms around his master’s neck in response.

That afternoon saw master and slave at the table again, Thor with his head bent over trade documents with Alfheim, and Loki kneeling at his feet, warming his cock with his mouth. 

When the noise started again, Loki’s eyes widened in apprehension, but his master only reached down to stroke his throat and pet his broken horns, and Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. 

A pleased, rumbling purr filled the room, along with the soft scratching of pen on paper.

It was the most pleasant way to while away an afternoon. 


	5. pleasure

Loki did not know how long he had been in his new master’s home. Long enough that he was growing stronger by the day, able to walk without stumbling, and the memories of his time at the pound gradually began to recede. Not forgotten, never that, but tucked away into a corner of his mind. 

It was raining today. There was a cold, wet breeze coming in through the open window, and he had swaddled himself in an old red cloak that his master had left behind. He seemed to like Loki in it, and Loki loved being surrounded by his master’s scent. 

Loki was in bed, looking through a book of pictures that his master had brought in one day. There was a trunk full of them, and he could open them as much as he wanted and look at the pretty colors and drawings as long he liked. 

When his master didn’t have use of him, of course. 

Sometimes, he carefully touched his fingers to the page and was surprised when they did not come away streaked with the colors, that none of them stuck to the pads of his fingers. He did not quite understand the pictures. There were familiar things—men and women, large buildings, the sky and birds and trees. The insides of rooms—there were beds, and tables, and windows. And many other unfamiliar things that Loki could not recognize and did not know the names of.

There did not seem to be any omegas in the pictures, nor any Jotnar at all.

He turned a page, peering at it closely. 

Sometimes there were other things on the page. Maybe they were words. Loki had never learned how to read. It didn’t matter. His master was so kind and so good to him, allowing him books full of pictures and a warm cloak and a soft bed. 

He looked up when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. His nose twitched. He could smell his master, and his body thrummed with it. But there was another set of footsteps, and another smell. It did not smell like an omega, to which Loki was relieved. But the smell still meant a stranger. 

He stood up from the bed, abandoning the book and the cloak, and hurried to present himself before his master arrived. Loki settled into position just as the door opened.

“Oh. Cute.”

That was not his master, but—

“Up, pet,” his master said, and Loki rose to his feet to face his master and the stranger, head bowed. 

“Present,” his master said, and Loki obeyed, spreading his legs apart and clasping his arms behind his back.

“He looks like a good wind could knock him over,” said the stranger. Loki chanced a look upwards and saw a woman with black hair and dark eyes. 

“He’s stronger than he looks,” his master said, smiling, “aren’t you, pet?”

Loki nodded as he was expected to, not really understanding what was happening.

The woman snorted. 

“If you say so,” she said. 

They trooped into the room, their boots wet and muddy. Loki went to his knees as his master sat down at the table, and he began to undo his master’s shoes.

“Well-trained,” the woman said, with a measure of approval.

“Mmm,” his master said, and granted Loki a gentle pet. “Makes me wonder what else they have rotting in those pounds, Sif.”

The woman—Sif—sighed. She went over to his master’s liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle. Loki remained on the floor, listening to them pour out their drinks, the quiet _glug, glug, glug_ of the bottle. 

“I know you agree with my father and think it is a fool’s errand—” his master started.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting a better life for them, if that’s what you’re saying. It’s just that it’s too late for a lot of them. Even if you do improve conditions in the pounds—”

“I know, I know,” his master sighed. “I just think we should do away with the breeding programs. There are plenty of slaves in the pounds, all waiting for good homes.”

“I have to say, I never took you for an abolitionist,” Sif said, with a pointed glance at Loki.

His master shook his head with a frown. “No, I wouldn’t call myself that. I believe omegas serve their purpose. It is only that they should be treated better. My father will not listen to even the slightest whisper of reform. It is maddening.”

“Your father is old,” Sif said, soothingly. “He is stuck in his ways. When you are king…”

“When I am king,” his master said, with finality.

“And besides, not everyone wants a rangy mutt like you,” Sif said with a laugh. 

His master laughed too, but he put a hand on Loki’s head and ruffled his hair. Loki closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. The conversation was almost incomprehensible, and he strived not to listen. It made his head ache dully. 

“This one’s the sweetest pet I’ve ever had,” his master said. Loki felt himself flush with pleasure, and he pressed up into his master’s hand with a quiet purr, pushing all other thoughts aside. 

“You’ve never been fond of the wilful palace omegas,” Sif said with a smirk. 

Thor shrugged. “I don’t begrudge them their breeding and their education. They make as good a pet as any omega, and their training speaks for itself. It is only I prefer something…softer.”

“This one’s certainly softer,” Sif said. “Look at him, he’s practically melting just being next to you.”

“Is it true, darling? You certainly seem much happier now, hm?” his master murmured. Loki bared his neck, purring louder. Bravely, he put his hands on his master’s thighs and leaned up, nosing into his palm and kissing his fingers.

“All right,” his master laughed, “come up here, then.”

And then Loki was being picked up and settled in his master’s lap, and he felt a shiver of pleasure go through his entire body. He was getting wet from the gentle touches, from his master’s kindness, but it was secondary to the feeling of being in his master’s arms.

He purred, loud and long, rubbing his face against his master’s chest. 

“I know,” his master said, stroking a hand down Loki’s back. “I know.”

—

It shamed Loki to admit it, even (and only) to himself, but sometimes he found no pleasure at all in being fucked. 

His time at the basement of a brothel had been miserable. His masters had always said that omegas could not help but enjoy being used, but Loki had passed the long, awful days racked by fear and distress. Every touch left him feeling dirty, even as his body responded to stimulation. Even as his hole and cock would grow wet from the touch of his master’s clients, his chest always felt tight, his limbs weak. The days had been grim and desolate and Loki had wept to know that he was broken. 

Not that it had ever mattered much at all. Omegas were not meant to feel pleasure. The fact that they did—or were believed to—was incidental. Loki knew his place, and it was to spread his legs and present his hole and be used for his master’s pleasure. Only his master’s pleasure mattered.

And so, Loki did not know how to feel when his master would suck his cock. 

His master did it often, which confused Loki to no end. It was true that being licked and sucked made Loki gush more than anything else, but he was always wet for his master anyway. And even more puzzling was the fact that his master didn’t always fuck him afterwards. Sometimes he sucked Loki off, long and slow, and played with his ass until he was crying, but he didn’t slide his cock into him, even when Loki was clearly desperate for it. Sometimes, he would make Loki present himself and then took care of himself with his hand—all Loki would receive was the splatter of his master’s come against his ass, his back. But if his master didn’t want to fuck him, why would he suck Loki off?

It was, undeniably, pleasurable. Deeply, terribly so. But Loki’s pleasure did not matter at all, so his master’s actions were _baffling_.

Tonight, Loki was on his back on the bed. His master had pinned his wrists above his head and told him to keep them there, and Loki had obediently crossed them together. Now, he was struggling not to disobey, his hands clasped together as he writhed, his cock ensconced in the tight, wet heat of his master’s mouth. 

His master was making soft, pleased noises as he suckled at Loki’s cock while Loki’s thighs trembled with the effort of not snapping shut. His toes curled into the bed and he turned his face into the pillows, his mouth slack with pleasure. 

“My sweet little pet,” his master murmured, pulling off to kiss the head of his cock. It twitched and sputtered, leaking precome. His ass was so wet that he could feel his slick on the sheets, making everything slippery. 

He couldn’t remember having ever felt like this. It was maddening, his—his _desire_. Loki trembled to think upon it. Desire was the purview of Aesir, of free men, not Jotun slaves. What Loki wanted simply did not matter. His desire was as useless as his pleasure.

But when his master fisted his cock and Loki almost shot up and off the bed, shaking, he felt it in every cell of his body. He _wanted_. 

“So pretty like this,” his master said. “Almost too pretty to deny, hm?”

Loki shook his head, confused and dizzy. He didn’t know what his master was asking. 

He shuddered with relief when his master pulled away, and he shakily lifted his legs to his chest, presenting his hole.

His master laughed, petting him there with two fingers until Loki was twitching mindlessly, his hole sucking his master’s fingers in with every pass. 

“So good for me,” his master said. Loki bit his lip, spreading his legs wider, but his master didn’t fuck him. Instead, he hovered over Loki’s trembling body and then leaned down—and kissed his horn. 

Loki could have _wailed_. Instead, he jerked out of position, his hands coming to rest on his master’s chest in an absurd attempt to—to what? Push him away? It was unthinkable. But no one had ever touched him there, had never—oh _Gods_ , his master was _licking_ at his horn, suckling it into his mouth, and Loki burst into tears.

He could feel slick gushing out of him, harder than ever before, and he could barely think through the haze of pleasure that was so overwhelming that it felt like a physical weight, choking him, breaking him apart. 

His master’s hand wrapped around his cock again. There was a click, a pressure being released. The cock ring. His master—his master had _removed_ it.

Loki couldn’t breathe.

Then his master spread his legs and entered him in one smooth, satisfying thrust. 

Loki was senseless. He was replete. There was a whimpering noise that filled the room, and the last shred of Loki’s coherence recognized that it was coming from _him_. He could not stop. 

“ _Gods_ ,” Loki heard his master swear, as if from very far away. “Look at you. Come for me, pet.”

One more slow, sensual suckle to his horn.

Loki’s body _snapped_.

He jerked upwards, the world falling away from him as pleasure crashed through every sinew, every muscle. He was clenching wildly around his master’s cock, slick dripping out of him where they were joined. He had never felt anything like this. 

His eyes rolled towards the back of his head. This was more intense even than his heat, than any sort of pleasure his master had bestowed upon him. It was as if lightning was flooding through his veins, and fire, all in a torrent that left him breathless. Loki shuddered and writhed and _came_. 

When the crest of the pleasure receded, Loki felt as if he had been brought back to shore on the back of a giant wave, and he could not move. There was nothing but static in his mind and in his body.

“Ah,” his master said, pulling away slightly. Loki could still feel his breath on his horn, and he gave a full-body twitch. He didn’t know what he looked like, splayed on the bed in a puddle of his own slick, his limbs twitching still, without his control. He couldn’t seem to get his eyes to focus. His hole was clenching weakly, erratically, around his master’s cock.

His master lifted his come-soaked fingers to Loki’s mouth and Loki sucked them in, two, and then three, unthinking, happy to have anything inside him. He was still making noises, loud and high-pitched, but his master did not seem to mind at all.

“Look at you,” his master murmured, delight evident in his voice. “Can you make another noise for me, darling?”

Loki whimpered again, then _whined_ , entire body soaked and dripping with pleasure.

His master gave a pleased laugh. “My beautiful pet,” he whispered. “Not so quiet now, are you, little one?”

Loki purred, then whimpered again, still suckling at his master’s fingers. 

“Maybe we’ll teach you how to say my name, hm?” his master said, taking his fingers away. Loki whined at the loss, rocking down into the cock still inside him. “Can you try for me, Loki? Can you say, _Thor_?”

_Thor_. His master’s name. Loki opened his mouth, trying to force sound through his throat.

“H-ho—rrr,” he rasped out. “Th—tho—rrr.”

“Perfect,” his master said, his eyes crinkling with pleasure. He kissed Loki’s forehead, then each of his horns. Loki keened, shivering happily.

“ _Th—orrr,_ ” he mumbled, trying to concentrate. “ _Thhorrr.”_ He swallowed, throat feeling raw, and frowned.

“Mm—masss—”

“Master,” Thor said, beaming. “Yes, that’s me, darling.”

“Mmassterr,” Loki slurred. His eyes were feeling heavy. 

“Absolutely perfect,” Thor murmured. “Can you spread your legs for me, sweetling?”

Loki twitched, shuffling his legs apart as best he could, and his master helped him along. Loki gasped as his master began to fuck him again. His body was so sensitive, like he was in heat, but his mind was clear, if a bit hazy from the pleasure that still throbbed through him. 

“So good for me,” Thor murmured, eyes closed, mouth falling open as he fucked Loki, who was so wet that every thrust squelched loudly. “So wonderful, such a good boy.”

“Mmassterr,” Loki sobbed. “ _Thor_.”


	6. silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one has some rough depictions of punishment at the very start as a flashback, it's not graphic but it might be distressing. please skip it if you think it'll upset you!
> 
> also ty to j and k for the beta this chapter, you guys are heroes 💖

_He was always tied down to the desk, for this. There was no way to do it cleanly and painlessly—but that was the point._

_“Three inches, I should think.”_

_“Three, my lord?”_

_“Yes. He needs to learn. Don’t you, pet?”_

_Loki was not supposed to answer. The whole point of this exercise, after all, was to teach him to be silent. But even now with his master looming over him where he was bent over the desk in the study, his hands and feet lashed to its four corners, Loki could not help the horrified whimpers that crawled out of his throat._

_“Hm. Yes. He will learn,” his master said blandly, waving to the man who held the chisel and the hammer. Jalle was the gardener, and he was as kind to Loki as a free man could be to an omega slave._

_Loki knew that was why his master made Jalle carry out this punishment in his stead._

_As Jalle stepped closer, Loki began to beg. Even though it was futile, and would only make his master angrier, the thought of what was to come made Loki mindless with terror. He could no more control his words and his noises than he could control the hands of the man who now grabbed his broken horn—two inches already chipped off after the first two punishments—and began the horrible task of breaking off another three inches._

_“A slave is meant to be quiet,” his master said, calm and steady, as Loki screamed._

_“A slave does not talk.”_

_And screamed._

_“A slave has no use for words.”_

_And_ screamed _._

—

Loki woke up to a blinding pain in his head, his throat raw and his mouth open in a soundless shriek.

He curled up into himself, and for a delirious moment was glad that his master had not bound him that night before they slept, so he could press his shaking hands into his mouth and bite down into the meat of his palms to keep from disturbing his master with his distress. 

Tears streamed down his face as his head rang with pain, a sharp, stabbing ache that resonated throughout the rest of him such that he knew nothing else aside from it. He could not even taste the blood in his mouth from where his teeth had broken skin. 

There was nothing but pain, jagged and vicious. 

And then Thor woke up.

His master sensed that there was something wrong right away, and peeled back the blanket that now clung to Loki’s sweat-soaked, pain-wracked frame to look him over.

Thor did not speak. He barely made any noise at all as he slipped out of bed and padded off into a corner of the room.

Loki’s stomach heaved as agony roiled through him, and as his master returned, Loki turned his head to the side and vomited on his master’s side of the bed.

Finally, one thing broke through the anguish: horror and fear lanced through Loki like a bolt of lightning, but his master only leaned over Loki, avoiding the spill of bile, and tipped a cool and bitter liquid into his mouth. 

And then Loki was being picked up, heaved into strong, steady arms, and taken out into the wide balcony outside. He was shivering, tremors going through him from the pain and the cold air both, and Thor tucked him in closer as he settled them down into the nest of blankets and pillows that he had made for Loki.

Loki could not see the sky from where his face was tucked into his master’s chest, but slowly the darkness outside lightened, and the cold night gave way to the misty dawn, and Loki was too exhausted to feel anything else other than shame for what he had done. 

When he looked up, wary and bleary-eyed, he found that his master had fallen back asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open, his arms still wrapped tight around the bundle of blankets and pet in his arms. At Loki’s slight movement, though, Thor woke up, blinking, a hand reaching out to wipe at his face.

Loki immediately shrank away, terrified, lucid now without the pain and aware of how much of a burden he was. Not enough to be a greedy, useless whore. He had disturbed his master’s sleep and soiled his bed. Even though the medicine had done its job, Loki still felt twinges of pain in his horns, and wondered if his master would punish him by chipping away the remaining nubs. 

Thor yawned, then peered down at Loki. He looked rough and soft from the lack of sleep.

“How’s your head?” he murmured softly, as if his voice would cause Loki pain. He had been so quiet, Loki remembered, when he’d realized what was happening.

Loki opened his mouth to respond, remembering how he had spoken his master’s name and title, eager to please Thor and show him he was not worthless after all—but no sound came out of his throat.

His heart squeezed painfully. It seemed as if the world suddenly narrowed down to a single point.

“Loki?” his master asked, his brow furrowing. “Can you say my name, sweetling?”

Blood pounded in Loki’s ears. He opened his mouth again, but to his horror, his words were caught in his throat, and he could only stare at Thor as he started to shake again. He had spoken—he had been _good_ —had done what his master wanted—had _pleased_ him—so _why_ —

“Oh, darling,” Thor said, his voice not displeased, but sad, almost _mournful_ , and Loki could not understand. “You’ve been hurt very badly, haven’t you?”

It had been a punishment. Deserved, if not necessary. Loki knew this. He had been disobedient and unruly and _loud_ and his old master had needed to punish him and Loki was _grateful_ —but Thor was looking at him with grief-stricken eyes, and Loki wasn’t so sure anymore. 

When he began to cry, it shook his entire body, but not a sound left his lips.

—

His master was quiet all morning. He allowed Loki to stay in bed (the sheets now changed, as they always were, by unseen and unnoticed servants) while he sat at the table. After feeding Loki breakfast and dressing the wounds on his palms, Thor spent his time writing letters and checking documents, but mostly he held his pen to his chin and stared outside, lost in thought. 

Loki, miserable and confused, tried to sleep, but it evaded him. Eventually, he shoved all his messy, incomprehensible thoughts down, out of his mind, and got out of bed. 

Thor, engrossed in something on his strange bright screen-box, did not notice as Loki approached him. But when Loki went down to his knees to crawl the rest of the way until he was between Thor’s legs, his master put a hand on Loki’s head to halt him.

Loki froze as Thor gently stroked his horns. He bit his lip—they didn’t hurt anymore, but they were _sensitive_ , and he could feel himself flushing from the touch.

Slowly, Thor asked, “Loki…do you know how old you were when this—when this was done to you?”

Loki swallowed. He had been young, before his first heat, but his life was a scattered collection of painful memories, and he did not dwell on his past. There was a clear demarcation between the _before_ , when he had been a house pet, a docile omega companion for his master, and the _after_ , when his first heat had revealed him to be exceedingly sensitive and responsive to fucking. 

The rest of his life had consisted of brothels and breeding benches and long, terrible, interminable days of being trained to be the slut he was now.

He shook his head in response, realizing he had gotten lost in his own thoughts, but Thor was already gesturing for Loki to climb into his lap, which Loki did eagerly. He leaned in and nuzzled tentatively at Thor’s neck, relieved when his master sat back, stroking a hand through Loki’s hair, his eyes falling shut. 

“It is vile,” Thor said, after they had settled down, and the venom in his voice made Loki startle.

His hands curled into Thor’s tunic, his heart starting to pound again, but Thor’s arm around his waist was gentle, and his master’s face was turned away.

“It is vile,” Thor said again, “what was done to you.” 

Loki inhaled sharply. His master was angry, but not at him. His master was angry _for_ him. Because someone had caused Loki pain. 

He swallowed, unsure of how to act, but Thor took that moment to turn to Loki again, raising a hand to stroke at his cheek. 

Reflexively, Loki turned his face into his master’s large, warm palm and kissed it. 

“We will find your voice again,” Thor murmured, his eyes bright and determined. “I would hear you…I would hear you laugh. I would hear your pleasure. Would you like that as well, pet?”

Loki nodded eagerly, his eyes stinging with tears. He took his master’s palm in both his hands and kissed his knuckles, trying to convey how grateful he was. 

Thor drew Loki back against his chest and kissed his forehead, then each of his horns. 

“Something has to be done,” Thor said, but it was soft, seemingly only for himself.

—

His master did not touch him for five days. 

Thor seemed suddenly to be very busy, and Loki was left alone for long swathes of time. Every night, Loki knelt by the door and waited for his master, and every morning he woke up in bed, having fallen asleep on the floor, and his master’s side of the bed was cold and empty. His master was burdened with responsibilities that Loki could not fathom, and, apart from the first two nights when his master had fallen asleep while Loki was sucking him off, Loki had not pleasured Thor at all. 

He ate his meals alone, bathed and cleansed himself, flipped through the books his master had given him, watched the sky outside, and worried, constantly. 

By the end of the fifth day, Loki had worn himself ragged with anxiety, terrified beyond all reason that the cruel omega’s words had come true: Thor had _tired_ of him. 

When his master returned to his rooms that day, it was not even past sunset, and Loki seized the opportunity to show his devotion by dropping to his knees and presenting himself. 

Thor reached down to stroke his hair absently, then walked past him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Loki’s blood grew cold. He waited for a beat, then crawled over to where Thor sat and began to unlace his boots. His hands shook. He could hear his too-loud breathing, and soon his vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Loki?” 

Loki jerked back as if slapped, his breath gone tight and fast, and he could think of nothing else to do except shuffle backwards and press his body to the floor in deep obeisance, mind gone blank.

“Loki, sweetling, what’s wrong?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It moved down to his upper back, and his master helped him sit up. Loki squeezed his eyes shut, terrified. He didn’t know what to do to please his master. 

Thor gently pulled Loki, unresisting, into his lap and sat holding him, cross-legged on the floor. 

Loki couldn’t help it—his body responded to the gentle touch, to his master’s warmth, to the possibility that his master still wanted him and would not send him back to the pound. 

“You’re trembling so badly,” Thor murmured, even as Loki’s mouth fell open in a soft gasp, his ass grinding down against his master’s strong thigh. “Oh, you—oh, darling, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?”

Loki sniffled, tucking himself closer to his master, his body shaking with miserable, soundless sobs. 

He kept his eyes closed as Thor stroked his neck, then his jaw, cupping his cheek and drawing his face up. His tears were brushed away, and finally, Loki looked at his master.

The expression on Thor’s face was strange. Loki did not know how to describe it.

No one had ever looked at him like this: eyes worried, brow furrowed, mouth parted in hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, eventually. 

Loki stiffened, frozen with shock.

The silence grew, thick and strange, until Thor said again, “I’m sorry, sweetling, I shouldn’t have left you all alone. It’s—my father is—but that’s no excuse. I should have taken better care of you—oh!”

Loki threw himself at Thor, clinging tight. His master wasn’t going to throw him away. His master hadn’t tired of him, he’d only been busy, Loki _wasn’t going to be thrown away_.

“My precious boy,” Thor said, tucking Lok’s head under his chin, “you’ve been so good to me and I’ve been a wretched master, haven’t I? After you had such a rough night as well. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. My poor, sweet omega.”

Loki nodded without really understanding, uncaring of anything except for the reassurance that his master still _wanted_ him. 

“Tomorrow,” Thor promised, rocking them together. “Tomorrow, I’ll spend all day tending to you. Oh, there’s that lovely purr of yours, sweetling, there we are.”

—

There was a large breakfast waiting for them the next day. 

They ate slowly, savoring everything that had been prepared for them. Thor fed Loki pieces of buttered bread and bacon with his fingers, then mixed fruits and cereals into cream and fed Loki with a spoon. He made Loki drink a full glass of water, all the while observing him with a singular focus that made Loki feel very warm. 

He’d missed his master, badly. 

After breakfast, they took a long, luxurious bath, and Thor washed Loki’s hair, so gentle in his ministrations that Loki grew wet and wanting. His master made no move to fuck him, but his touch was full of intent, and by the time Loki had been washed and dried, he was almost trembling with anticipation. 

Instead of taking Loki back to his bedroom from the bathing chamber, Thor grabbed a towel and a small dark bottle off the shelf and took him to the adjacent room, which Loki had seen his master enter, but had never been inside of himself. 

The room, now revealed, seemed to be a study. It was bright and airy, with large windows taking up most of one wall, the curtains pulled back to let the sunlight stream in. At the end of the room was a large desk, and behind it was another large window. The rest of the walls were lined with bookshelves, and where there were no books, there were maps and tapestries. 

The floor was covered in plush carpeting, and Loki flexed his toes against the soft, supple material as Thor led him to where two armchairs, appointed in red, were placed facing each other, a low table in between them.

“I’ve told Sigyn to set all my appointments aside today,” Thor said, “but just in case—” Thor gestured and the door to the study closed with a definite _click_. A coil of fear slithered in Loki’s stomach, but he pushed it aside. His master had never hurt him. And if he did—then Loki would be grateful for it all the same. 

“Now, we won’t be disturbed,” Thor said with a small smile. He folded the towel and draped it over one of the chairs, then gently guided Loki to sit, which he did, feeling rather small. The chair was large enough for two people, and was clearly expensive. Loki was wary of touching it, and was glad his master had set down a towel to keep it clean.

“You can touch, pet,” Thor said, reassuring, and Loki did so, reaching out to touch the arms on either side of him. They were exceedingly soft. Loki brushed his fingers along the fabric, enamoured.

“Get comfortable,” Thor said with a grin, “and I’ll tell you what we’re going to do today.” He sat on the low table as Loki pulled his legs up onto the chair, trying to find a position that felt natural.

“Relax,” Thor murmured, reaching out to tuck Loki’s hair behind his ear and stroking Loki’s neck before moving his hand downwards.

“I’m going to touch you,” Thor said, running his fingers down Loki’s thigh in demonstration. “I’m going to touch your cock and your hole, and I’m going to make you feel good. I want you to enjoy this. And I want you to find release.”

Loki’s head snapped up at the mention of _release_. He could still remember how electric it had felt when his master had allowed him to come, how terrible and deep and all-consuming the pleasure had been. The mere mention of it had his cock stirring, though he tried to tamp down his excitement.

“Would you like to come again, sweetling?” Thor asked, taking hold of Loki’s cock and giving it a good stroke. Loki’s mouth fell open in a breathless sigh and his eyelids fluttered. He nodded, almost frantic with it.

“Good,” Thor said, pulling away, and Loki kept his legs splayed open, feeling held down by his master’s gaze alone. “Your cock will stay bound until I think you’ve earned your release.”

Loki swallowed, deflating a bit. 

“All you need to do,” Thor said, “is say my name.”

Loki’s mouth opened at once—but he found the same suffocating tightness in his throat from days earlier, and just as quickly his expression crumpled. It wouldn’t work. He _couldn’t_.

“You can do it,” Thor said confidently, and his hands were on Loki’s thighs again, spreading him open further, till the stretch ached. “I know you can, because it would please me very much, and you want to please me, don’t you, pet?”

Loki nodded eagerly, helplessly, and shuddered when Thor leaned in closer to say, “I’m going to make you be good for me. You don’t have to think about it, sweetling. Just obey me.”

Obey his master. Loki could do that. He wanted nothing else _but_ to obey him.

“All right,” Thor said again, pulling away slightly. “We can start. I want you to hold yourself open. Hands under your knees, yes, good boy, show me your pretty cock and your hungry little hole, darling.”

 _Norns_ , Loki was already hard, already starting to drip, suddenly realizing this was why his master had put the towel down. 

Thor observed him for a long moment, his intense gaze sweeping up and down Loki’s body, and Loki fought not to break his position and cover himself. He hadn’t been shy in a very, very long time, but the hunger in his master’s gaze made him feel like a blushing omega who hadn’t even had his first heat.

“You really are quite beautiful,” his master said. 

Loki _shuddered_. Oh, he hadn’t _thought_ —and now his master was leaning closer, and Loki almost swallowed his tongue when soft lips were pressed to the nub of his horn. There was a long, sensual lick there that had Loki shivering, then his master was kissing his ears, his cheeks, his jaw. Then his neck, Thor’s lips _so_ gentle, parted just enough for breath to puff against Loki’s skin, for the tip of his tongue to flick out for a taste. 

“Exquisite,” Thor murmured, against Loki’s shoulder. 

Loki blinked back tears and fought to keep his breath steady. Why would his master—it made no _sense_ —no one had _ever_ —

Thor brushed his fingers along Loki’s shoulders, then across his collarbone, then lower, until he took one flushed nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he closed his teeth around the other.

Loki’s head thudded against the back of the chair. He gasped for air, writhing as his master toyed with his nipples, tugging them between his fingers and flicking at them with his tongue and scraping them with his teeth. His fingers dug into the meat of his thighs as he fought not to buck from the sharp pleasure of being toyed with like this.

 _Master_ , he thought, half-gone already, _Thor, oh, master, please_. He _wanted_ to say those words, but he could only gasp and pant.

Loki’s head lolled backwards as Thor pulled away again, then two hands were splayed on his chest, encompassing almost the entirety of it, brushing up and down, up and down, from his bared neck to his trembling torso to his taut stomach, so close, so close—

Loki’s entire body arched upwards off the chair as Thor pulled away again.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little bottle from the bathing chamber that Loki had forgotten about, then uncorked it and tipped its contents into his palm. 

“It’s just oil,” Thor said, rubbing it into both hands till they shone in the light, slick and slippery. 

Then he wrapped a hand around Loki’s cock.

 _Master_ , Loki thought deliriously, eyes rolling backwards, _master, master, master_.

“I’ve never had a pet as lovely as you,” Thor said, pumping Loki’s cock in measured strokes. His other hand joined in, palming at Loki’s sensitive slit while the other squeezed around his shaft. The space he made with his hands was slick and hot and tight, and Loki felt himself unraveling. 

“Look at you,” Thor said, something akin to awe in his voice, “you’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

Loki was too overwhelmed to even nod. It was taking everything he could do to keep from snapping his hips into his master’s fist.

“You’re holding back,” Thor said, as if he could read Loki’s mind. “That won’t do at all, pet. I know it’s hard—you’ve been taught that your pleasure doesn’t matter.”

 _Oh_ , if Loki could have screamed, he would have when Thor’s hands stilled, loose around his twitching cock.

“It does matter,” Thor said, “it matters to me, so it should matter to you. I know it’s hard to understand, so I’ll help you. Fuck my fist.”

Loki _sobbed_. Hot tears ran down his face as he obeyed, his hands slipping on his sweaty skin, hips rolling into his master’s strokes. 

It was so good. It was so impossibly, wonderfully good. His hole twitched and dripped steadily, the towel underneath him suddenly deliciously rough against his oversensitive skin. 

It was coiling tight around him again. Desire, that forbidden sweetness, threatened to consume him entirely, drowning out his thoughts and his training and his devotion to his master, turning him into a greedy, selfish whore who only wanted—who only wanted—

“ _Ahh—nngh—_ ”

Loki cried out, soft and weak, as his master pulled away again. The noise was so surprising that he snapped his mouth closed, arousal forgotten as terror rushed through him.

Swiftly, Thor leaned in and kissed his sweaty forehead. 

“That was wonderful, darling, you’re doing so well,” Thor said, and Loki could feel his smile on his skin. His master pulled back and titled Loki’s chin up to meet his gaze, and Loki tried to focus on him.

“Doing okay?” Thor asked. Loki licked his lips and nodded, though he felt unmoored, like he was floating outside of his own body.

“Good,” Thor said. He kissed Loki’s cheek, then sat back down at the low table and once again took Loki’s stiff, flushed-purple cock into his hands.

“ _Aahhh,_ ” Loki cried, and this time Thor did not pull away, and Loki began to fuck into his hands with wild abandon, chasing the heat and the ringing pleasure that tugged at him with each stroke of his cock. His hands were slipping, his legs splayed open, he couldn’t hold his position, writhing on the chair like a tempest, a storm, and then his master knelt on the ground— _knelt, for Loki_ —and swallowed down Loki’s cock.

Loki’s hands scrabbled at the arms of the chair, his legs closing around Thor’s head, and he fucked his master’s mouth, sloppy and desperate, wailing like a wild thing.

He did not know how many times he felt his peak rise inside him, only to be thwarted by the rings bound tight around him, by his master pulling away with a sly, pleased smile on his face, his lips red and swollen from sucking his whore’s cock.

When he came to, he felt raw and exhausted, and found that he was making soft, broken noises with every movement, and that he could not _stop_ moving, rutting against the soaked towel underneath him, hips jerking into nothing as his cock bobbed and swayed. 

His master pressed a cool glass to his lips and Loki drank and drank, beyond parched. 

He whimpered and panted as Thor gently rearranged him, hooking his legs over the arms of the chair to spread him open, twisting two fingers into Loki’s twitching, dripping hole before working his own trousers open.

 _G_ old glinted around the base of his master’s cock. Thor had bound himself as well.

 _Oh_ , was Loki’s only thought before his master hooked his arms under Loki’s knees and slid into him in one smooth motion. 

Thor picked Loki up with a soft, pleasured sigh, bouncing the insensate slave on his cock before taking them both to the desk at the end of the room and settling down.

Loki moaned softly, wriggling on his master’s cock as his own cock rubbed against the material of Thor’s tunic, the finest silk in all the Nine Realms too rough, too much for him. 

Thor hushed him, rubbing his back, and Loki stared out the window at the great blue sky as he bounced himself messily on Thor’s cock before subsiding and slumping against his master with a quivering groan.

Loki felt himself going under, everything falling away as he wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck and clung to him, uncaring of his obedience, of his training, of his own wretchedness. Every so often he would come back to himself, would pant and whine as he fucked himself on his master’s cock, taking his own pleasure, _stealing_ it, feeling giddy and content to have a cock in his needy hole and a place to rub his cock against.

His master touched him all over, stroking, murmuring things that Loki could not comprehend, soft things, lovely things, things that Loki did not care about deserving. He wanted them. He _wanted_.

—

Loki jerked with a startled moan when his own hand wrapped around his cock. His master was closing his fingers around Loki’s, guiding Loki’s hand into stroking himself. 

“Loki,” Thor was saying, as if from some distance away, “can you say my name, sweetling? Can you be a good pet and say your master’s name?”

Loki panted, dropping his head and biting his lip as he continued to pleasure himself, rolling his hips and clenching around Thor’s cock.

Thor pinched his nipple, and Loki jolted, whining.

“ _Aah, aah, aanngh—_ ”

Thor stroked his neck and pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. 

“It would make me so happy if you said my name, sweetling, ah, you feel incredible around me, the loveliest thing I’ve ever had, and I want to make you feel so good, dear heart.”

“ _Mmmm—ahh—”_

“I know you can do it, lovely. You want to, don’t you? You want to feel good, I know you do, you’re touching yourself so well, doesn’t that feel perfect?”

“ _Th—th—”_

“Mm, there we go, ah, Gods, you’re— _gods, pet_ —”

“ _Ah! Ah, ah, Tho—Thorrr—Thorrrr—”_

Loki sobbed, shaking his head as his master stilled his hands, then removed them from his cock. 

_No, no, no, he wanted—he needed—_

There were the softest clicks as the rings that bound his cock were removed.

“Hands behind your head, sweetheart, can you do that for me?”

Loki was a hair's breadth away from coming, and he trembled like a leaf in a tornado as he raised his hands and placed them on the back of his head, baring himself to his master’s gaze once more, kept balanced on Thor’s lap only by the thick screw of his cock inside Loki’s ass.

Thor ran one finger down the length of Loki’s cock, from the slit to his balls, and Loki cried, “ _Thor!”_ and came, crying out again and again as Thor wrapped his hand around him and stroked him through his climax. It seemed to go on forever, the interminable, heady pulse of pleasure being tugged out of him, making his body writhe, filling him with that electric flood, leaving him utterly senseless in its wake.

The rest of it happened in flashes: he slid to his knees, splayed at his master’s feet, and swallowed down Thor’s cock without prompting, realizing in a brief moment of lucidity that he cared not for his master’s pleasure but for his own, for the weight and taste of cock in his mouth to sate his hunger. When his master came, it was a surprise to Loki. He had not even noticed that Thor had unbound his own cock.

In a moment, he came again from rutting against his master’s foot, not even realizing he was doing so until his orgasm hooked into his belly and left him wrung out completely.

He was picked up, and set on a bed, and rubbed clean, and then his master turned him over and curled himself around Loki as they slept.

He woke up, and was fed fruits and water, then tugged against his master’s chest, where he fell asleep again.

—

When Loki woke up properly, it was dark outside. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to dispel it.

He slid out of bed and made a noise of surprise as his legs shook weakly. He was so thirsty. He wobbled his way to the table, where the evening meal had been laid out. His hands trembled as he raised a cupful of water to his mouth, sloshing a bit onto himself. 

Then he wobbled back into bed and plastered himself against his snoring master’s back.

Thor stirred at the touch, turning around to tuck Loki closer.

“M-m-mas-master,” Loki stuttered. He swallowed, frowning, and tried, “Th-Thor?”

“If we weren’t so exhausted, I’d suck your cock until you came again,” Thor said, then yawned.

Loki gave a soft, delighted purr, rubbing his face against his master’s chest. “ _Thor_ ,” he sighed.

His master stroked one of his horns and kissed his forehead. “So good, sweetling. I’m so proud of you.”

Loki felt like squirming, happiness bubbling inside him. He had been good. His master was _pleased_.

“Dinner, now, I think,” Thor said, sitting up slowly. “Or we’ll feel worse in the morning. No, don’t get up, we’ll eat in bed.”

Dinner was a light stew with fresh, crusty bread, and for dessert his master picked up a small box he’d set aside on his bedside table and smiled as he showed it to Loki.

“I asked the cooks to whip up a special treat,” Thor said. As he opened the box, steam rose out of it, and Loki’s nose twitched as a subtle scent, familiar but unplaceable, wafted into the air. His horns reacted too, the small nubs tingling, and Loki opened his mouth without question as Thor scooped a dollop of the dessert onto a spoon and fed it to him.

It was _cold_. Loki almost spat it out in surprise, but then the sweetness hit his tongue, and the whole thing melted into smooth cream and cool sensation, and he opened his mouth for the next scoop eagerly. 

He purred around the spoon in his mouth, pursing his lips to catch all of the luscious cream and licking his lips after. 

“More?” Thor said, eyes crinkling in amusement as Loki put his hands on his master’s thigh and leaned in closer, rumbling happily. 

“ _Master_ ,” Loki purred, slipping himself into Thor’s lap, the better to chase the spoon that Thor was holding up.

Thor’s eyes were bright with mischief as he said, “You can have more if you say my—”

“Thor,” Loki said immediately, perking up. “ _Thor_.”

“Good boy,” his master laughed, and slid the spoon into Loki’s mouth.

“It’s called ice cream,” Thor said as Loki sighed and purred. “The recipe is from Jotunheim, but we’ve managed to recreate it quite well. Of course, no one’s entirely sure how the Jotnar made it themselves.”

Loki blinked, mouth going slack around the head of the spoon so that Thor tugged it easily from him.

 _Jotunheim_. Loki had so rarely heard the word. The realm was myth and legend at this point, so thoroughly destroyed during the war that no living thing had thrived there for centuries. It was a barren land. Even Loki knew this. 

And still, though this strange food was a remnant of a realm long-dead, Loki was glad to have it. To have something, no matter how slight or elusive, of the place he might have thought of as home, the taste of it bursting sweet and cold on his tongue.


	7. dreams

“Master. Master, master. Thor. _Thor._ ”

Loki repeated the words to himself as he snuggled against his master’s side, for once awake earlier than Thor. One blue eye opened on a face still half-pressed against a pillow.

“For someone who knows only two words, you’re awfully talkative, pet,” Thor said, but smiled to let Loki know he was pleased.

Loki’s mouth rose into a smile (that was new, the smiling).

He leaned up so their faces were closer together, and said, “Cock.”

Thor’s face slackened in surprise, and then he threw his head back and laughed. 

“Clever boy,” he said, grinning. 

His arm wrapped around Loki’s waist and drew him close, and Loki draped himself on top of his master’s body and curled up on his chest.

“Is that what you want, pet? Cock?” Thor asked, his hands wandering down Loki’s back to rest on his ass. He tapped on the plug stuffed into Loki, then slowly and gently eased it out. It was bigger than Loki’s usual, and strings of come clung to it as it was removed. 

Loki moaned, clenching down on nothing, achingly empty.

“Needy little thing,” Thor said, fond. 

“ _Master_ ,” Loki purred, rubbing himself against his master’s body, his hips rutting sinuously against Thor’s strong thigh.

“Go on, pet,” Thor said, crossing his arms behind his head and raising an eyebrow at Loki.

“Cock,” Loki said, reaching behind him to grasp his master’s cock and lead it into his hole. “Master.”

“Mmm, that’s right,” Thor said, hooking a finger into Loki’s nipple piercing and tugging. 

Loki closed his eyes and exhaled, concentrating on fucking himself on his master’s cock in a smooth, steady rhythm. In the back of his mind, he hoped Thor would allow him to come, but it was a fleeting thought. He knew he was greedy for even wanting it. 

By the time his master groaned and clutched at his hips, cock jerking inside him, Loki’s thighs were burning from exertion. He slumped against his master’s chest, moaning softly as he was pumped full of come. 

To his surprise, his master slipped a hand between them. He palmed Loki’s cock, which jumped at the touch. His fingers slipped the cock ring off and Loki flushed all over, near-shaking with disbelief. Tears of gratitude welled up in his eyes.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let me see you,” Thor crooned. 

“ _Master, master_ ,” Loki whined, panting. He fucked into his master’s fist, fucked back into his half-hard cock, and Thor stroked him to completion. Loki’s mind went blank with pleasure, electric, and when he found himself again, his master’s hand was in his hair, teasing his fingers through the strands. His entire body was buzzing pleasantly, and the morning light seemed syrupy and soft.

“Good boy,” Thor murmured. 

“Master,” Loki purred. 

—

After that, it was as if a dam had been broken. His master no longer made him wear the ring around his cock, which was cruelty and kindness both. Loki knew he was still not allowed to come without permission, and with his cock unbound, he had to control himself—an exacting task, as anything his master did would fill him with helpless pleasure, would leave him hard and dripping, aching until he was senseless with need. 

But while it was difficult to deny himself orgasm, his master’s new proclivities would send him to heights of desperation he’d never encountered before. Thor was fond of binding Loki tight, arms behind his back and legs spread apart with a bar. This, Loki was used to. But one day, his master had a new toy. The vibrating plug was a strange new shape, with a small nub that pressed up against his perineum. It curved, too, more than the usual plug, and Loki’s eyes went wide when his master nudged it in—it pressed against something inside him that made sparks run down his spine. His cock, already hard and leaking, jerked against his stomach, oozing precome. 

“Good?” Thor asked, nudging the toy in and out. 

“ _Master_.” Loki’s mouth fell open in a breathy moan. His legs quivered. What was it pressing against? Loki had no idea, but it felt impossibly sensitive—his back arched helplessly and he groaned as the toy rubbed up against that area again. The weight inside him and the weight rubbing against his taint made his head spin. He felt like he couldn’t breathe from the sensations. 

His master laughed softly, ruffling his hair. Then he turned the vibrator on and Loki cried out, his body spasming, trying to curl in on itself as the vibrations pushed right up against that strange nub of pleasure inside him. 

“Master,” he gasped, tears already spilling out of him, “master, please—” 

“Now,” Thor said, over Loki’s cries, smiling indulgently, “you may come as much as you like, pet. I want you to hold it in for as long as you can, but there will be no punishment for your release. I’m going to leave you here for a few hours. You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

“ _Master_ ,” Loki sobbed, nodding his head. “ _Please_.”

“Good boy,” Thor said, stroking his hair. He held up the phallic gag. “Now, open wide.”

The gag went in, forcing Loki’s jaw open, and with one last stroke to his hair, his master left the room. Loki watched him with wide-eyed desperation, though his eyes soon rolled backwards as the vibrator demanded his attention. He squirmed on the bed, but he was bound tight, pleasure and desperation winding tighter and tighter around his body. Even the soft brush of the silk bedcovers began to feel too rough, his skin oversensitive, his senses singing. 

The gag in his mouth wasn’t quite long enough to touch the back of his throat, but it was thick and fat, made of unyielding material. Loki sucked on it in an attempt to distract himself, staring sightlessly at the ceiling as the vibrator hummed and buzzed inside him. He could hear his own desperate whimpers, the whines pulled out of his throat as pleasure washed over him—he tried hard to obey his master, to be good, he wanted only to be _good_ , nothing else—clenching his toes and digging his nails into his skin to stave off his impending climax. 

_Be good_ , he told himself, repeating it like a mantra in his head: _good slut, good whore, good little hole, made for fucking, for being used, be good—_

But the pleasure won over, his orgasm jerked out of his body after one helpless, desperate roll of his hips against the bed, and he was coming, his little cock spluttering as his body clenched greedily, hungrily around the plug. 

_Oh, gods_. It felt good, so good, to have been allowed to give in to the heavy, heady, fiery pleasure that coursed through him. Letting it crest and take him under and bring him back up to the surface. _Master,_ he thought hazily, even as the vibrator jolted into another rhythm, making him clench and drool helplessly. He ground his ass down into the bed and suckled on the gag and thought of his master, and was grateful. 

By the time Thor returned to his rooms many hours later, Loki was far gone. His cock was half-hard and twitching against his thigh, which was dripping with spend. His chest was shining with sweat, and heaving, and each breath rattled with desperation. He had come all over himself, and all over his spot on the bed, painting a very messy scene. Even as Thor walked over to the bed, Loki’s entire body spasmed and shuddered. His cock twitched again, and a thin ribbon of spend trickled out. Loki’s head lolled backwards, eyes half-closed. 

He groaned, hoarse and guttural, when Thor put a hand on his side. The gag was soaked with saliva, and Loki was suckling and gnawing at it, soothing himself as his body shuddered through orgasm after orgasm. 

“Good boy,” Thor said, just to watch Loki’s body quiver again, valiantly pushing through a climax that was excruciating at this point. He smiled, pleased and fond. “My perfect pet.”

Thor released the gag, and Loki heaved in a sobbing breath through aching jaws. 

Then Thor unclipped the spreader bar, and Loki’s legs splayed on the bed, numb. 

“Turn around and present for me, sweetling,” Thor murmured. 

Loki sobbed and whimpered. He couldn’t—he _couldn’t_ —but disobedience was unthinkable, and his master had given him so much. And Loki was so _grateful_ , no matter how much his nerves screamed, no matter how each touch felt like fire on his overstimulated body. He forced himself to his side, then struggled to raise his knees, slipping in his own copious spend. He was taking too long, he knew, and his posture was terrible, it was unacceptable—but his master was patient, and only waited until Loki had raised his ass in the air, spreading his shaking legs to present his plugged-up hole. 

“Good boy,” Thor murmured, and Loki felt his hole twitch and leak slick despite his exhaustion.

“ _Mmasssterrr_ ,” Loki slurred, face pressed into the sheets. 

His master took hold of the plug and gently slid it out, almost making Loki collapse on the bed. His entire body quivered all over, until finally his master’s cock slid into his ass. His master took pity on him, taking his long hair in his fist so he could hold Loki up as he sweetly, terribly, forced him to come once more.

The _no_ , _please_ , almost came out of Loki’s mouth, but he choked it down. _Disobedience was unthinkable_ , and so was refusal. Loki wept, blinded with tears, teeth gritted against the exhaustion, and obeyed his master. The last, convulsing orgasm was completely dry, and painful as well, but Loki only felt happiness and relief for having been able to obey.

Thor gripped Loki’s hips with his large hands and fucked him leisurely for a long while, using Loki’s twitching body as he pleased. Thor came once like that, with Loki’s ass in the air, and then he turned Loki over and slid into him again, grunting and groaning at the soft, wet suction that Loki made for him. 

_Just a hole,_ Loki thought dazedly, as Thor’s cock squelched into his ass, into the mess of slick and come that dribbled out of him, _nothing but a hole for my master_. 

The second time his master came, he pulled out of Loki’s hole—laughing as Loki clenched and twitched in a mindless attempt to keep him in—and came all over his face and neck. Thick, hot spend spurted against Loki’s mouth and nose, clumping in his eyelashes. 

“Beautiful,” his master murmured, his spent cock now resting across Loki’s face, a warm and satisfying weight. And Loki was happy, because it was true. He was beautiful, with his ruined hole and his cum-spattered face. 

His master had made him so.

—

Afterwards, his master carried him to the bathing room and washed him so gently, rubbing a soft cloth against his sore spots. He wiped away the tacky cum on Loki’s face with his fingers, his thumbs rubbing against Loki’s cheekbones. He even poured sweet-smelling oils into Loki’s hair, which was growing out beautifully, much more healthy than before. 

When dinner came, Loki was fed from his master’s hand, curled up in his master’s lap.

“ _Thank you, master_ ,” he whispered, as Thor guided a delicious warm bread into his mouth. 

Thor paused for a moment, and Loki froze, wondering if he had made a mistake. He had been practicing the words in his head—had wanted his master to know he was grateful. His master had been so kind, had wanted to hear Loki’s voice—but even kindness could be taken away and Loki had forgotten that as well—and he would be punished, whipped until everything went dark, or starved for days until he begged even for cock to wet his throat—

“Hush, hush, it’s all right, darling,” his master was saying, and Loki realized he was crying, soundless and motionless, petrified.

“I’m not angry,” Thor whispered, tucking Loki close, wiping away his tears with his thumb. “You’re a very clever thing, aren’t you?”

His master drew him up in his arms and Loki curled up close, and said nothing else as his master fed him, only kissed and licked Thor’s fingers in gratitude. After dinner, his master settled him in bed, then went to the trunk on the floor and picked out some of the picture books. He grabbed a bowl of berries—Loki’s favorites—from the table, then settled Loki into his lap again.

The rest of the night was baffling as it was pleasant. His master would point to something in the book, say its name, and wait for Loki to repeat it. If Loki got it right, his master would feed him a berry. But the berries were only half the reward, for Loki. Every time he repeated a word correctly, and then remembered it afterwards, his master would smile, delighted, and would call Loki _good_. 

The words themselves were not the problem—Loki knew what most things _were_ , but forcing the forgotten sounds out of his throat was a strange and difficult task. An omega whore did not need many words, maybe _please_ , and _master_ , and _cock_ —those had come back to him first. Loki’s voice had been taken from him a long time ago, but, somehow, his master _wanted_ to hear him speak.

And even when Loki got the words wrong, even when it took him too long to push sound through his throat, his master was patient. He never struck Loki, even when Loki knew he deserved it. Loki always deserved punishment, but it never came. Hadn’t come, not in a while. When he was particularly pleased, Thor would push his thumb into Loki’s mouth along with the berry, and allow Loki to suckle on it.

When the book was finished, Loki sat up earnestly, the exhaustion of the day forgotten. 

Loki put his hand on the sheets and said, “B-bed.” 

“Bo-owl.” “Fru—fruit.” “Pill—pillow.”

He put a hand on his master’s chest and said, clearly, “Master.”

Then he pointed to himself and said, “Pet.”

Thor’s eyes crinkled. “That’s right, darling.”

“Master,” Loki said, grinning happily. 

Thor swept down and kissed his forehead, lingering.

“My sweet, clever, beautiful omega,” Thor murmured.

Loki flushed with pleasure. 

His master, Loki decided, was the most wonderful person in the entire world. 

The books were still scattered around them when they fell asleep, Loki curled up against his master’s chest, still repeating in his head: _cape, berry, bed, window, balcony, pet, master._

That night, Loki dreamt.

—

_He hadn’t meant for it to happen._

_The days in the brothel passed in an endless, agonizing blur. Loki had long been broken down. He hung limp on the breeding bench, which allowed his master’s clients to adjust his body as they saw fit. He was on his hands and knees today, ass raised invitingly into the air. He had only woken seemingly moments ago, but come, sticky and tacky, was already running in thick globs down his thighs. Someone slapped his ass, and he barely moved._

_“This one’s not long for it,” someone said with a grating laugh._

_“Used to cry more,” someone else said in a disappointed voice. “But it got boring eventually. They all do.”_

_“Don’t suppose we can have a bit of fun before it goes?”_

_“What did you have in mind?”_

_What they had in mind, was fire._

_He’d thought he could take it—he’d taken so much. Maybe this time, they would kill him. He could lay still for that. He could take death like an obedient omega slut took cock._

_He was wrong._

_And he hadn’t meant to do it._

_But something screamed in his chest as soon as the fire was held to his face, and then suddenly everything was burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. Frost erupted from his skin, splintering the breeding bench, making his tormenters shout._

_For the first time in a very long time, Loki stood up._

_His skin burned. One of the men tried to strike him and his hand came away steaming, hissing. Frostbitten._

_He killed three of them before they sedated him with a shot to the neck._

_His punishment was brutal. His master was so, so angry._

_During the day, he was left in a courtyard under the sun until his skin blistered and broke open. During the night he was penetrated with metal objects that scraped his insides like fire. His body was sold for free to anyone who wished to take their anger out on a useless, pathetic omega slave._

_After three days of horrific torture, he was dumped in the alley beside the pound, left for dead._

_When he somehow, miraculously awoke, he was in a cage, dark and dank, surrounded by the noises and smells of terrified omegas._

_His body was broken and battered, but there were no lasting signs of the days of his punishment, as if it had knitted itself back together somehow. As if it had forgotten what had been done to it._

_His mind, too, eventually knitted itself back together, and the memories disappeared altogether._

_There were some things that could not be borne by the mind peacefully._

_Loki kept a shred of sanity, and lost the memory of fire, of ice._

—

The sun was high in the sky when they awoke the next day. Loki slipped off of his master’s chest, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Thor sat up. Something lingered in the back of his mind, but faded away like morning mist when he tried to reach for it. 

Loki was grateful that his master took his morning fuck with Loki on his hands and knees. Loki’s dream swirled in the back of his mind, tantalizing, and he felt very far away from the room, from his master’s bed, from his master’s cock inside him. 

It frightened him. 

It was only when Thor reached around to stroke Loki’s cock that he jerked out of his reverie, and he pushed back into his master’s cock, hungry for it, awash with relief as that hot, thick length drove all other thoughts from his mind. By the time his master allowed him to come, Loki was sobbing gratefully, once again just another broken omega, mindless and desperate for his master’s cock. 

—

After their morning bath, while Loki sat in bed and cuddled with his master’s cloak, Thor puttered around the room, rummaging through his closets and desks, searching for something. He looked up when his master made a noise of triumph, holding out a piece of rope.

It was a lead, Loki realized, as Thor came back to the bed. 

He put the lead close to Loki’s neck, and with a quiet whisper it seamlessly attached itself to his collar. Thor gave a gentle tug and Loki sat up straighter, clutching at the edges of Thor’s cloak for comfort.

“Will you be good for me today, pet?” Thor asked, stroking Loki’s hair.

Loki nodded eagerly.

“Good,” Thor said, smiling fondly. “Because today, we’ll be going outside.”

Loki’s heart pounded. Outside. Outside his master’s room—not outside to the balcony, to the big sky and the birds, but outside, on the other side of the door, to where the servants came in and out, to where there were noises of other—of other people. To where the other omegas were.

“You can keep the cape on,” his master said, mostly to himself. He was already turning, tugging on the lead and making Loki scramble out of bed. “We’ll have to go to the tailor’s at some point…but our first stop—the infirmary.”

The infirmary. Loki’s memory of infirmaries—of doctors and healers—were dark and dank. Windowless rooms, cold steel, rough hands, the overpowering scent of terrified omegas. 

A horrified whimper caught in his throat as Thor opened the door, and led him outside.


	8. check-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i finally found the motivation to rewrite this chapter after having lost it when my hard drive died. i'm hoping that breaking the block on this will help me write the rest of the fic, but please be patient with me. i have a lot of things planned, and not a lot of time to write after the holidays. 
> 
> in any case, i hope people are still interested in reading this!
> 
> please drop me a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> big thank you's to j and h for the beta 🥰

It was bright outside, and loud.

Loki’s bare feet slipped on the cool floor as his master led him through the door. Immediately past his master’s room was a large and empty hallway with expansive windows to let in the sun and the wind, and beyond that was a tall archway flanked on either side by two guards. They lifted clenched fists to their chests as Thor passed. Loki felt their gazes on him, and kept his eyes on his master’s back. 

He tucked his master’s cloak tighter around himself, taking care not to fall too far behind or walk too close to him, trying to remember lessons on maintaining the proper distance. He had not been walked in a long time, barring the short weekly sessions in the pound, where he was usually dragged, stumbling, through cramped corridors. He couldn’t decide whether to close his eyes against the dazzling brightness of his master’s opulent home or to take in as much of it as he could, and so kept falling behind. It was nothing that Thor could not correct with a gentle tug to the leash. He did not even turn to look behind him. 

As they walked out into the busier parts of the palace—for that was what it was, Loki realized, the grand golden beast of a home that his master lived in—he decided it was easier to keep his eyes down and focus on not tripping. There were _people_ around them, and though his master did not stop to greet them, they always called out or murmured a greeting to him as he passed. No one made mention of the pet at his heels, but Loki felt their attention alight on him all the same, however briefly. Taking him in and dismissing him in turn: just another omega whore.

Loki kept his head bowed and followed his master’s quick and sure stride, trying not to let apprehension fill him at the thought of the infirmary. But it was difficult—Loki had thought he was doing well. That his master was pleased with him. 

But there must have been something wrong with him, some unacceptable stain that had to be fixed or removed. Maybe his ugly, broken horns would be chopped off once and for all. 

Or worse— _worseworseworse_ —his master wanted him to be bred. 

Loki bit back a whimper as his eyes started to fill with tears. He had tried so hard to be good. 

Fear must have made his footsteps falter, because in the next moment he was pitching forward, the leash going taut and the collar tightening around his neck. His knees hit the floor with a sharp and painful _crack_. He barely registered it, though, not through the sudden terror that gripped him as Thor turned around. As quickly as he was able, he tucked himself to the floor in trembling submission, pressing himself as tightly to the ground as he could.

He could hear murmuring and soft exclamations, and misery crawled into his throat, a heavy, awful weight. 

“Pet?” Thor asked, and the storm of his boots as he came closer was loud. Everything was so _loud_. “Sweetling, what’s wrong?”

 _Apologize_ , Loki’s brain screamed frantically. _Apologize, you useless thing_.

But his hard-earned words were gone, torn from him, and his throat would not utter even a single noise.

“Are you hurt?” Thor asked. “Come, come here, darling. There we go.”

A shiver ran through Loki as Thor knelt beside him and helped him sit up. They were in the middle of a crowded hallway, but his master didn’t seem to care—he cupped Loki’s cheek with a rough palm and looked him over, his eyes filled with concern.

Loki wanted to say something, _anything_ , but he could only shake his head, ashamed. 

“Sire, is everything all right?”

Loki flinched, hating himself for it as it drove him further from his master’s arms. He wanted—he wanted to be held. Wanted Thor to soothe him and assure him he was not being punished, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. 

And there was something else that came with the voice, though Loki didn’t dare to look up at its owner. A distinct and unusual scent, familiar but one Loki could not place. Sweet and heavy, so cloying he could almost taste it on his tongue. 

“Quite all right,” Thor said, still on his knees as the newcomer hovered beside him. “I think my new pet just has the jitters, is all. Poor thing hasn’t really been out much.”

“Ah, of course, sire,” said the stranger. “He’s very lucky to have a caring master.”

“ _Master_ ,” Loki croaked, finally. He shuffled over to Thor and pressed himself close, relief washing over him as Thor took him into his arms. 

“Sweet little thing, isn’t he?” Thor asked. He lifted Loki up easily, tucking him close to his chest as he stood up, and Loki blindly nuzzled his neck, his shoulder, asking for forgiveness with his body. 

“Very. Oh, there he is. Hello, little pup.”

Loki blinked, half his face still pressed against his master, at the stranger. 

His eyes widened in shock as his gaze landed only on a bare, Jotun-blue torso. He could not raise his head higher. He didn’t want to. He already knew who— _what_ —the stranger was. 

An alpha. 

“This is actually fortuitous timing,” his master was saying, holding Loki steadily in his arms as if he weighed nothing. “I was meaning to visit later. This one needs new clothes.”

“My master and I would be happy to serve you, sire,” the Jotun replied. “He’d look quite charming in the newest collection.”

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, then, Fitja,” Thor said. “We’re off to the infirmary this morning. Routine check-up—Runa’s been on my case about it. But I didn’t think Loki was ready to go out and, well. Here we are.”

Fitja laughed. Loki’s entire body shuddered at the sound. He remembered alphas. The smell of them in the brothel, when omegas needed to be bred. The inspections at the infirmary, to ensure he was healthy enough to carry.

The beatings when the couplings never took, no matter how long or how brutally Loki had been bred. Endless days turning into weeks. That thick, awful, sickly-sweet alpha stench burned into his lungs. And just one more reminder that there was something indelibly faulty about him. That he was a useless, worthless omega, his body not even good for breeding.

He couldn’t hold back a whimper, and Thor hushed him gently, only sighing as Loki curled up tighter, closer. 

“We’re almost there, sweetling,” Thor said. He bade Fitja farewell, and Loki did not look up again as they walked on.

“Master,” Loki whimpered. “Pet—good. Be good.”

“You are,” Thor said, sounding bemused. “Sweetling, you’ve been so good for me.”

“N-no alpha,” Loki sniffled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “No—please.”

“Don’t be frightened of old Fitja,” Thor murmured. “He’s the sweetest alpha in the palace, all the omegas say so. He’s not allowed to touch you, of course. Well, maybe to take your measurements. But you belong to me, darling.”

Loki whimpered again, shivering. 

“Yours, master,” he mumbled. “Yours.”

“Is that what you’re so scared of, lovely?” Thor had stopped walking, looking down at Loki. He carried him over to a corner, closer to a window, and the breeze caressed Loki’s face, wet and cool with tears. “That you’ll be—oh, sweetheart.”

Thor laughed, and Loki’s heart clenched at the sound of it, his gut twisting in distress.

“I’m not going to lend you out, pet. Not to any alphas or to any other Aesir.”

“F-firmary?” Loki asked. He curled a hand into his master’s tunic and bit his lip.

“I just want the healers to take a look at those horns of yours,” Thor said. “And look you over. Nothing to worry about. I forget you’re not like the palace omegas. This is all new to you, isn’t it?”

Loki nodded, some of his terror abating. 

“S-sorry, master,” he whispered. “Pet—good.”

“I know,” Thor murmured, rocking Loki gently in his arms. “I would never do anything to harm you, sweetling. Nothing at all.”

—

Thor carried Loki all the way to the infirmary. They passed through a tall, arched entryway, into the bustle of a room unlike anything Loki had ever seen. He even craned his neck upwards to gaze at the ceiling and the bright light that poured in from overhead. There were soft, white linens on the beds, and gauzy white sheets that could be pulled around them like curtains. People dressed in clean white robes walked around with medicines and food in little trolleys. 

Feeling much calmer, Loki cuddled closer to his master as he was taken into a separate room.

Thor was greeted by two more people in white robes, and Loki was set down on a flat, comfortable bed, his head propped up on a soft pillow. Immediately, he spread his legs, holding his knees up to present himself for his master.

“None of that, omega,” said one of the white-robed strangers, a woman with a stern look and large brown eyes.

“He’s certainly well-trained isn’t he?” said her companion, a man this time. Same brown eyes, though his expression was kinder.

“He’s very sweet,” Thor said with a soft laugh. “We just had a little hiccup on the way here. Poor thing thought he was going to be taken into a breeding session.”

“He wouldn’t have seen a healer in any other circumstance, I suppose,” said the woman.

“I read his health report when it came with the papers,” said the man, smiling gently as Loki slowly lowered his legs. “He’s had a rough go of it. Multiple attempted breedings, but they never took.”

“And we’ll find out why,” replied his companion. 

“This is a soul forge,” Thor explained gently as a golden shimmer started to coalesce in the air around Loki, startling him slightly. “Runa and Halle will use it to look at your health—it won’t hurt. You won’t even feel a thing.”

“Master,” Loki whined anyway, his hands digging into the soft bed underneath him as the glow intensified and extended across his entire body. He wanted to spread his legs again, to feel his master’s cock inside him. It was strange being in a bed and not being used. 

“Hmm,” Runa said, drawing the shimmering light into her palm and directing it towards his head, ignoring his distressed whimpering. “The nerve endings in his horns are all twisted. Badly done, that.”

“Was probably meant to hurt,” Halle said.

“It gives him awful migraines,” Thor said. “It’s what I’ve been using the anodyne for.”

“It might worsen with time, sire,” Halle said, frowning. “We’ll need to check on him regularly.”

“Very sensitive, those horns,” Runa said. “They use them to sense temperature changes. Not very useful in Asgard, but theories posit that it was essential on Jotunheim. We’ve bred them out of some omegas, but some owners enjoy the sensitivity.”

“And I’ve prepared a salve for you, sire,” Halle said. “It should be easier to apply than the oral medication.”

“Ah, my thanks,” Thor replied, running a hand up and down Loki’s arm, soothing him. Loki turned his face towards his master and wished he was close enough to pleasure him. 

“Now, let’s see here,” Runa said, directing a ball of glowing light downwards. Loki fought not to squirm. She frowned. “Perhaps the omega had the better idea. There’s some internal scarring. Might be better to do a physical check.”

“Up you go, then,” Halle said cheerfully. His hand went to Loki’s thigh, spreading his leg, and Loki reared backwards in surprise. 

“Master,” he choked out, shaking his head. His master had said—he’d _said_ —

“Don’t kick,” Runa snapped. “Does he need the stirrups, sire?”

“It should be all right,” Thor said. “Spread your legs for me, sweetling?”

Loki whimpered but obeyed, his chest and throat feeling tight. 

He let out a low sob when two fingers pressed into his entrance. Not his master’s—someone else’s—Halle’s—they slid in with no resistance, and Loki gulped in shallow breaths, his vision blurring with tears. He didn’t understand. 

“Shhhh,” his master said again. His hand was under one of Loki’s knees now, holding him open.

“You may want to soothe him, sire,” Runa said. 

“One moment,” Halle said, and then the top portion of the bed was retracting. Loki keened, shaking, as his head swung upside down into the air. Thor’s touch left his thigh as he walked over to the head of the bed.

“Master,” Loki begged. “Master, please.”

“Hush,” Thor said, “I know, sweetling.”

And then Loki’s lips parted around the head of his master’s cock, the heft and girth of it sliding down his throat. He moaned, eyelids fluttering. 

“Oh, look at that. Sensitive thing. He’s soaking me,” Halle said. His fingers in Loki’s ass were feeling good now, no longer so terrifying. They pressed at something inside him that made his toes curl, his mouth going slack and needy around his master’s cock. Drool dripped from the corners of his lips, and his master’s hand was splayed on his neck, a heavy, heady companion to the length of him stuffed down Loki’s throat.

“Well, that worked like a charm,” Runa said blandly. “He is quite sensitive, isn’t he?”

“His heats must be debilitating,” Halle said. “I would highly recommend continued suppressant use.” 

“I’m, ah, supposed to give him his next dose in a week,” Thor said, grinding his hips into Loki’s face. 

“Good, good,” Runa said. “Feel anything, Halle?”

“Scar tissue,” Halle murmured, dragging the light of the soul forge closer. “Quite a lot. Very strange. Unless they’ve put something awful inside him—not ruling it out, those brothels are monstrous—it might be natural.” 

“Barren, then,” Runa said. “The reports in his papers had suspected as much.”

“Surprised he even has papers,” Halle muttered. His fingers were petting Loki inside distractedly now, and it made Loki spread his legs wider, his hips rolling needily into the touch. “These black market breeds usually don’t come with any documentation.”

“They probably did their best at the pound,” Runa sighed. “You pay for what you get, I suppose. Truly, sire, I don’t understand why you’d choose a mongrel when we just received Keisari from the breeding houses.”

“Keisari is sweet, but he doesn’t drip like this,” Halle said with a laugh. Thor echoed the laughter, then groaned as he spent in Loki’s throat, a hot gush that made Loki shiver all the way down to his toes. He swallowed greedily, moaning in gratitude.

“Doesn’t swallow like this, either,” Thor said, petting Loki’s cheek. His pleasured sigh was lost in the wet noise of his cock slipping out of his slave’s mouth. “Some things just can’t be bred or trained, Lady Runa.”

“Do you let him come with this, sire?” Halle asked, running a finger down Loki’s hard cock. He hadn’t even realized—but now it was all he could think of. He nuzzled against his master’s wet cock and sucked on the head, wanting more. 

“Sometimes,” Thor said, sounding sheepish. “When he’s been good.”

“You keep spoiling him and the behavioral issues are going to crawl out,” Runa said. “There’s a reason we breed for temperament, sire.”

“You seem to have quite a handle on him, though,” Halle added. 

“He’s really very sweet,” Thor said. “More submissive than anything.”

“Yes, those whorehouses will do that,” Halle murmured. “Very strange he doesn’t have scars, isn’t it? They must have cleaned him up at the pound. The things they do with cosmetics, these days—incredible.”

“Hardly worth it for a mongrel,” Runa said, “but they do do excellent work with omega cosmetics, these days. If you ever want anything changed…” She waved a hand and the soul forge diminished, leaving Loki dazed on the bed, his ass twitching and his cock aching. 

“Thank you, Lady Runa, but I like my pet as he is. Mongrel and all,” Thor said, good-natured. “I know you don’t approve, but he’s been lovely.”

“If he makes you happy, sire,” Runa said with a wry smile, her tone now more familiar and light. “Though I doubt Nal will let him into the harem when you’re done with him.”

“Won’t be for a long while yet, in any case,” Thor said. He was standing beside Loki again, stroking his hair.

“Bring him in next month for another check-up,” Runa said, all business again. “And don’t forget the suppressants. Halle, the salve?”

As the healers bustled off to attend to other matters, Thor took the leash back in his hand and gave it a tug. Loki swung his shaky legs off the bed and ground his legs together as slick dripped down his thighs. 

“Good boy,” Thor said, draping the cloak over him again. “You did so well, sweetling.” 

“Master,” Loki purred. He gasped when Thor cupped his cock, and whined when a thumb rubbed against the swollen rim of his ass. 

“Lunch, next, I think,” Thor said, groping Loki almost absently. “And then the tailor’s. Maybe I _will_ lend you out. You were beautiful while Halle touched you. But only to the other omegas, hm? I think you’d like that.”

“Master,” Loki whimpered, mind going blank as Thor incessantly scraped his thumb against Loki’s rim. His knees threatened to buckle. “Please, _ah_ , please.”

“So good for me,” Thor murmured, pleased and possessive. “Even for a black market mongrel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading!
> 
> let me know what you guys thought about this chapter 😈
> 
> and next chapter: we finally meet the other omegas!


	9. meadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update!!! i think i've gotten back on track with this fic, but we'll see. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

The walk to the tailor’s passed by in a blur. Loki concentrated on trying not to trip on his own feet as Thor led him once again through great golden hallways. His head felt like it was filled with cotton—he couldn’t think of anything else except the burn in his throat from his master’s cock, the ache between his legs. 

He wanted his master to tug on the leash, hard, to punish him for his distraction. He also wanted his master to bend him over any available surface and sink his cock into him, his fingers, even a plug. _Anything_.

Loki bit back a whimper as the mere idea of his master touching him made drip more slick. He told himself that he’d already been fucked twice today and that his master was already so generous, so patient with him despite his faltering failures. And his place was not to _want._

The voices of his old master, of the handlers at the brothel, of the guards at the pound—they all resonated in his mind, reminding him of what he was, of what he was for: _You’ll take what your master gives you and be grateful for it,_ _you greedy omega whore._

Loki buried his nose in his master’s cloak and breathed in his scent. It helped calm him down. One more thing to be thankful to his master for.

Soon, Thor brought them to a halt in front of a set of partly-opened wooden doors. 

Even from the outside, Loki could catch the whiff of the alpha they’d met earlier, and his stomach did an uncomfortable flip. His master had said he wouldn’t be touched by the alpha, but Loki knew that was no real reassurance. Thor could do anything he wanted to Loki, and Loki would obey. He wanted so, so badly to be good.

The doors swung open at Thor’s touch, and Loki was led into a room that was less grand than the infirmary, but still stunning in its unfamiliar wonder. 

The floors here were wooden, more rustic than the gold of the hallways, and they were awash in sunlight, which shone through large, tall windows. Lining the walls were racks of clothing, each containing, to Loki’s unaccustomed eyes, garments that were more majestic than the last. He did not even have the name for the _colors_ of such clothing, much less their styles and fabrics. 

Huge rolls of cloth were collected in one side of the room, and on the opposite side there was a desk, over which was bent the head of a man—an older Aesir, with a shock of white hair on his head. On either side there were also rows of mirrors, and smaller rooms that were closed off by deep red curtains. 

The man looked up as Thor walked in, stepping away from his desk and bowing deeply to the Prince, one fist on his chest.

“Bordi!” Thor greeted, striding forward to clasp the man’s arm. The action made the leash go taut, and Loki scrambled to stay upright. 

“It is an honor, as always, my Lord,” Bordi replied, bowing again. He looked askance at Loki, who quickly lowered his gaze to the floor. “Is this your newest pet, sire?”

“This is Loki,” Thor said. He tugged on the leash, and Loki shuffled forward. 

“Hello, Loki,” Bordi said, his voice warm. 

Loki froze in place, not knowing whether he was allowed to speak to the man or not. 

“Shy one, isn’t he?” Bordi continued.

“He hasn’t been outside much,” Thor said. “He’ll get used to it. Say hi, Loki.”

“Hi,” Loki murmured, still keeping his head bowed. 

“As you can see,” Thor said, “I haven’t had time to get him new clothes.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Bordi said with a chuckle. “Fitja is out picking up a shipment from the Bifrost, but I can take your pet’s measurements.”

“Go on, then,” Thor said. He placed a hand on the small of Loki’s back and gently pushed him towards the tailor.

“You’ll have to take off the cape, little one,” Bordi said. His voice was kind, and Loki obeyed immediately, letting the cape slip off his shoulders. After a moment’s hesitation, he handed the bundle of red fabric to Bordi, who placed it on his desk.

Now completely naked, Loki tried his best to stand still as the man began to circle him, taking out a length of tape from his pocket as he did so. 

“Very good, pet,” Thor said, crossing his arms and giving Loki a nod of approval.

“Thank you, master,” Loki murmured. Bordi was efficient and quick, and he barely touched Loki at all, except to move him around slightly, and fleeting glances of his fingers when he had to take measure of Loki’s various body parts. Loki had never been to a tailor before—he’d hardly worn clothes in his entire life. 

“All done,” Bordi said, nodding and slipping the tape back into his pocket. He’d made no mention at all of the wetness shining between Loki’s legs, nor the rise of his still-hard cock against his stomach. “Now, as for the design, sire…”

“Something nice and airy,” Thor said. “Nothing complicated. He’s unused to clothing. And easy access, of course.”

“Of course,” Bordi said with a nod. He waved a hand, and from the air rose shimmering images and screens. On them, Loki could see pictures of Jotun draped and dressed in various clothes. “Please, sire, take a seat as we discuss.”

Thor nodded, sinking into a plush chair by the desk, and Loki went down to his knees, sighing with relief as he lay his head on his master’s thigh. Thor slipped a hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp and making Loki purr in contentment. He closed his eyes and let everything else fall away.

\--

Loki stirred when there was a tug at the collar, his master patiently waiting as Loki rose to his feet.

“...and I’ll have the clothes delivered to your rooms, sire,” Bordi was saying. “And if there’s any problem at all, I am at your disposal.”

“Excellent,” Thor replied, draping his cloak over Loki’s shoulders again. “Thank you, Bordi. Your service is impeccable, as always.”

Loki rubbed at his eyes, trying and failing to tamp down a small yawn. 

“Tired, pet?” Thor asked, stroking Loki’s hair from his face and cupping his cheek.

“Master,” Loki sighed, nuzzling into that broad, warm palm. 

“You’ve had an eventful day,” Thor said, fussing with the cloak and stroking his hands down Loki’s arms. “Let’s get something to eat, hm? And I have a nice little surprise for you, sweetling.”

“Thank you, master,” Loki chirped, eyes flying open at Thor’s words. 

Thor laughed softly, ruffling Loki’s hair. “Such a sweet pet. Say goodbye to Bordi and Fitja now, darling.”

“Goodbye sirs,” Loki said, bowing his head low. He could smell the alpha in the room again, though he dared not turn around to look for him.

\--

As Thor led him through the palace again, this time Loki found a spark of courage to keep his head up, taking in the beauty of his master’s home. Thor took through hallways and corridors lined with colorful art in frames, none of which Loki recognized, and shining statues, and filigreed walls, and lovely windows, the sun shining bright through each one of them. 

There was so much sun and warmth that Loki’s bare feet did not even feel cold on the golden floors. 

And as Thor led him on, Loki began to become aware of other things: a breeze, first, light and gentle, but getting stronger as he followed his master. And then, a strange, tittering sound. It took Loki a moment to place, but he recognized it as the sound that woke him in the mornings, in his master’s bed: birdsong. 

His heart started to race. 

Then Thor turned a corner, and the world opened up before them. Trees, and grass, and the sky and the sun overhead as far as the eye could see. The wind swept through Loki’s hair and through the cloak, making it flutter behind him like a pair of wings. 

Loki was sure his mouth was agape as he took in the scene before him. Thor tugged him over under the shade of a nearby tree, where there was a table set with a small feast: fruits tumbled in a large bowl, and beside it, a plate of roasted meats and a basket filled with bread so fresh that Loki could still smell it. There was another plate filled with cut meats and cheese, and what looked like seeds and nuts. A chilled flagon and one goblet were placed beside a single golden plate. A large wicker chair padded with soft cushions sat beside the table.

At first, Thor set Loki in his lap, but he found that Loki’s slick had drenched through the cape. Loki flushed in embarrassment as Thor, thankfully good-natured, told his messy pet to kneel on the ground at his feet instead. He even passed down one of the cushions for Loki to rest on, and Loki swallowed down the lump in his throat as tears rose in his eyes—he was so grateful to have a master so kind. 

As Thor ate, he fed Loki small morsels by hand. Loki opened his mouth for everything his master pressed up to his lips, unthinking, and chewed and swallowed without complaint. His master fed him grapes, slices of pear, whole strawberries, letting Loki bite the fruit off from their leafy tops. Then his master slid something past his lips, cool and round, and Loki bit into it—and blanched at the taste. His eyes flew open. His first instinct was to spit it out, but he was well-trained enough to chew and swallow it just as he had with everything else his master fed him.

What had his master given him?

Before Loki could think further on it, Thor pushed something else into his mouth. Loki’s heart dropped to his stomach when he realized it was the same thing as earlier, smooth and round and easily crushed under his teeth, releasing a bitter saltiness that made Loki cringe. 

He breathed through his mouth, swallowing quickly.

Why was his master doing this?

When Thor pushed one more into his mouth, Loki almost wretched. Instead, he clenched his fists on his thighs and ate what his master gave him. He reminded himself of the pellets they fed him at the pound, their tastelessness, their grittiness. He was lucky—he was so _grateful_ —

Thor pushed another one into his mouth.

Loki couldn’t help himself—he sobbed. He was being punished, he was sure of it now, but why? What had he done? 

“Pet?”

His master’s voice cut through the tumult of Loki’s thoughts, and as he swallowed down the bitter, salty mouthful, he bowed his head in remorse.

“What’s wrong, sweetling?” his master asked.

“P-pet is—sorry, m-master,” Loki stuttered. He shuddered. “S-sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Thor asked, confusion clear in his voice.

 _Don’t know_ , Loki thought, _don’t know, don’t know._

“Loki, look at me,” Thor ordered.

Loki whimpered and looked up, starting to tremble. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Thor asked. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right. You’ve done nothing wrong. Here, have another olive.”

Loki flinched, shaking his head, when his master tried to feed him another one of those fruits—an _olive_. 

“You don’t like it?” Thor asked, frowning.

Loki whimpered again, shaking his head. “S-sorry, sorry, master, please, sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Thor said. “It’s okay. I don’t like them either. Shh, did you think I was punishing you? With the olive?”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. 

Thor sighed. “Sweetling. I wouldn’t do that to you. I told you, didn’t I? I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“N-need it,” Loki whispered. “Need it to be g-good.”

“If I ever need to punish you,” Thor said firmly, “then I will let you know. But you’ve been good for me, and I know you can’t help what you are. I know. You poor thing.”

Loki bowed low, pressing his lips to his master’s boots, kissing them in apology. 

“Here,” Thor murmured, as Loki sat back up. He was holding up a strawberry dipping in honey. “Here you go, lovely.”

Loki closed his eyes as he bit into it, savoring the sweetness. His heart clenched despite his master’s reassurances, but he was grateful all the same.

“Thank you, master.”

\--

After lunch was over, Thor took Loki through a copse of trees, leading him by the hand rather than the leash. It was much cooler under the shade of the trees, and the birds sounded so much closer, so much more alive. Loki’s head spun from trying to take it all in. 

And then there, past the tree line, was _water_. It was a stream, burbling as it hurried along its own path. It continued on until it hit the far wall that surrounded this wondrous section of the palace, disappearing through a grate. 

Thor was already shedding his clothes, stripping down until he was fully naked. 

Loki dropped the cape and followed his master as Thor waded into the water first, then gestured for Loki to come in.

Loki had never seen so much water in his life—not even the pool in his master’s chambers could compare. A wisp of fear arose in Loki’s chest, but he pushed it aside quickly. He could not disobey.

His feet touched the water first—it was _cold_. Gloriously so. 

All the baths Loki had taken with his master were warm to a degree that made him dizzy, and most other times Loki had been washed had been with the rough, painful spray of a hose. 

He walked in deeper and deeper, falling Thor into the middle of the stream until they were submerged halfway up their chests. Loki did not even know to be afraid anymore. His master was here, and he was grinning at Loki.

“Do you like it, pet?” Thor asked.

Loki nodded vigorously. He touched a hand to the surface of the water, swished his fingers in the rush of it. 

“Thank you, master,” Loki breathed. He wrapped his hands around his master’s and brought them to his lips in a kiss. “Thank you.”

Thor laughed, ruffling Loki’s hair with a wet hand. “I knew you would like it. The omegas love the water, especially when it’s cold like this. The stream goes all the way to the harem.”

Loki nodded, turning his head back to the far wall, to the grate, where the stream snaked through, all the way to where the other omegas were. In the harem.

But Thor said nothing more about the other omegas, instead leading Loki closer to the bank of the stream on the other side, where he rested against a large rock, and Loki rested in his lap. The water swirled around them, brisk and bubbling, and Loki tucked his face into his master’s neck and nuzzled slowly, sleepily. He was so cold, and his master’s arms were so strong around him. 

They spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon playing in the water—Thor allowed Loki to wrap his legs and arms around him as he walked them up and down the stream. He even taught Loki how to submerge his head under water, and how to lay on his back, face turned towards the sun. 

Afterwards, they dragged themselves back to the banks of the stream and lay themselves to dry on Thor’s cape under the shade of a large tree. As they rested, Thor on his back with his hands behind his head, and Loki on his side, tucked against his master, a tiny creature crawled on Loki’s finger. He peered at it in curiosity. A little bug with bright red wings that reminded him of his master’s cloak. Loki blinked as it fluttered off into the air and disappeared out of sight. 

Sunlight peeked in through gaps in the crown of the tree above them, fleeting, ever-changing, as they dozed to the melody of the birds. But they didn’t rest for long. Soon, Thor was turning Loki over on his stomach, and Loki reflexively presented himself, raising his ass high for his master. 

He suddenly remembered how desperate he’d been that morning, and his body responded to Thor with eagerness, already slicking itself in preparation. 

His master took his time, however. He draped himself over Loki’s back, his cool skin so different from his usual blistering warmth, and swept his hands up and down Loki’s sides, toying with his nipples, rubbing the insides of his thighs until he was dripping all over himself. 

Loki kept his back arched as well as he could, kept his face lifted so his master could hear his needy little whimpers. 

When Thor had had enough of groping him, he pushed Loki’s head down, pinning it to the ground with one large hand, and Loki’s legs spread wide in response. He buried his face in his arms and keened, feeling utterly bared out in the open, where anyone could have walked in and seen them, where the cool breeze caressed his skin almost like a lover, and the trees rustled to themselves as they watched. 

Then there was no time or space for thoughts as Thor set his hands on Loki’s waist, positioned himself, and sunk into his pet with one hard, brutal thrust. And Loki’s body, already primed from an exhausting day of being fondled and paraded around, spasmed as he came all over himself unbidden, untouched.

“ _M-master_ ,” Loki cried, eyes rolling backwards into his head. His body was wracked with tremors, pleasure and terror mingling as he realized what he’d done. His cock twitched fitfully as his hips rubbed needily, helplessly, against his master’s cape.

Thor laughed in surprise as he pounded away, his hand heavy on the back of Loki’s neck now.

“Oh, pet, you were desperate for it, weren’t you?”

“Ss-sssorry,” Loki sobbed, feeling his hole go slack and loose and wet around his master’s cock. Oh Gods, oh _Gods_ , his knees were going to give out from the overwhelming pleasure of it, of being taken and used. “S-sso-ssorry, mmmaster.”

“Shh, it’s all right,” Thor murmured, grabbing Loki by the hips again as his cock rolled into him, rough and fast, taking Loki like he was nothing but a toy made for fucking. “Greedy, needy thing. You’re lucky I’m so kind to you, sweetling.”

He was. Loki was so very lucky. 

But he had come without permission, and Thor had to punish him—he said as much as he began to rain slaps on Loki’s ass. The pain was sharp and immediate, and Loki moaned in sheer gratitude. This was what he needed, what he deserved. His master was correcting him, making him good. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Thor said, grunting as he plundered Loki’s body, then smacked him hard on the ass, making him clench and cry out. “That you would know if I was punishing you.”

“Yes!” Loki wailed, loud enough to drown out the birds as he fought not to flinch away from the blows. “Yes, master!”

“Take it,” Thor growled, then laughed again, a warm kind of laugh. The cold from the stream was beginning to drain from his body, and Loki was left panting and sweating as he planted his face against the soft fabric of his master’s cape, lifted his ass as far as it would go, and let his body be taken. 

So very lucky indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said we'd meet the omegas in this chapter but too many things happened 😅 in the next one, promise!


End file.
